Ambush
by Fleuramis
Summary: A simple mission for the King turns into a deadly struggle for survival for Aramis. This is my first fanfiction story. I hope you enjoy it
1. Chapter 1

Ambush

Aramis was impatient to get back home to the garrison. He had been sent on a solo mission three days ago, something that wasn't usually done. The Captain preferred to send at least two men together on each mission, as they would have backup for each other. But they were short-handed because of injuries at the moment, and this was a simple mission to the Abbey of Pontlevoy with a letter from the King and Queen. It had been an enjoyable stay, as he was able to have some quiet time with nature, and also had been able to spend some moments in prayer in the Abbey's lovely small chapel, which he needed now and then to balance the often violent and turbulent world he lived in, which he nevertheless loved.

As it was morning now, he figured he would reach Paris by late afternoon. He looked forward to his brothers' welcome back, and imagined they might treat him to a night at their favorite tavern, which made a delicious chicken stew they all loved, and would be accompanied with some wine, good times and the laughter shared with close friends.

The morning was beautiful, clothed in the lovely shades of autumn as the trees had begun to array themselves in bright shades of red, orange and gold, sprinkled among the green. The bright fall day was marred only by some rather dark clouds in the distance. Rain, Aramis thought. I hope it waits until I get back home first. I don't need to look like a wet hen riding through the garrison gates, he mused to himself.

Aramis' journey back had given him some time to daydream, and lately, his favorite daydreams had been of his son, the Dauphin. He imagined right now the boy riding up in front of him, with his arms holding his son securely, while he regaled him with descriptions of heroic deeds of the Musketeers. How he wished he could have some time alone with the Queen and his son. He had never really got over Isabel losing their child or disappearing from his life when they were 16. There had been no closure, and his heart had been broken. Then, like a miracle, he had gradually come to know and cherish Anne. The one night they had spent together was etched on his heart, and he often had sweet dreams of them living their lives together with their little son-dreams that could never come true-and he would wake up heartbroken once again. All he had now were brief public moments where he could see her or their son. It was unbearably painful, and he had the feeling Anne felt the same way. Athos would have some scathing comments if he could look inside Aramis' thoughts, and Aramis could understand where his friend was coming from, but couldn't help himself with his dreams.

His thoughts were pulled sharply back to his present surroundings, though, as his innate perception of danger suddenly kicked in. He felt like he was being watched, but couldn't tell from which direction. He casually scanned the trees lining the roadway, seeking anything out of the ordinary. His comrades had good reason to trust his uncanny ability to sense danger, as it had saved their lives on more than one occasion. The feeling was growing stronger by the moment.

A light smattering of rain began to fall, and the bright sunny day was turning gloomy, as the clouds were gathering in force. I'm going to be in for it the rest of the way home, he grumbled to himself.

Just as he finally detected a glint of sun striking metal off to his left in the trees, a musket blasted through the quiet of the morning, and Aramis' side burst into searing pain. His horse, frightened by the noise, took off in a panic, while Aramis desperately grabbed hold of his mane to keep himself in his saddle. His horse, normally attuned to the least movement of the master he loved was now flying at a gallop, having shifted away from the loud report of the gun and into the fields to his right. The movement of the careening horse jarred him, sending waves of agony through his body as he held on for dear life.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Then, disaster struck him a second time. His horse leaped over a pile of old cut tree trunks that had been laying directly in its path, losing its balance and landing on its knees, sending Aramis flying over its head onto another pile, this one of logs cut from the trunks. When he landed, he could feel his shoulder and ribs violently hit the logs, and from the impact he knew one or both could be cracked or broken. He was dazed, and couldn't seem to move while his breath came in great shuddering gasps. HIs whole body seemed to be on fire with the pain.

He was intensely dizzy and he was having trouble focusing. He vaguely realized he needed to try to get up and find some shelter where he could treat his wounds, but his traumatized body was screaming out its protest in spasms of excruciating pain. He was having trouble controlling his breathing, and he tried not to panic, which would make it worse.

To make matters worse, the rain was coming down steadily, the heavily overcast skies had significantly lowered the temperatures of the once pleasant weather.

Aramis stayed very still for a little, trying to give his body a few moments to quiet itself, before attempting to exert himself again to get up. He knew he couldn't use his right shoulder, as the intensity of the pain was telling him it was broken, so he pushed himself slowly up with his left arm, finally gaining his feet on his second try. He could see some sort of building a relatively short distance away, and thought maybe there might be someone there who could help him. He grabbed a broken piece of branch from the pile in front of him to steady himself with, and took an wobbly step, then another. Each time he moved, he felt spasms throughout his body, but he kept going. The storm didn't help, as it was now coming down in sheets, and the wind was blowing straight at him, soaking him to the bone and chilling him at the same time.

It seemed to take forever, but finally he reached the front of what turned out to be a cottage. He leaned heavily against the door, then knocked. No one answered. He tried again. Nothing. He pushed the door open, and stumbled inside.

Looking around, he saw that it was deserted. The cupboards were open and empty, dust covered what little furniture there was, and a strong musty odor permeated the air. His hopes for someone who could help him or take a message to the garrison were dashed.

He did see that there was a pile of kindling in front of the fireplace, and nearly wept for joy. His tiny tinderbox was about the only thing he hadn't lost when his horse took off. After having been stranded one or two times in the past in the midst of winter, he kept it now in a pocket in his doublet.

He set to work making a fire, as he knew he was probably going to lose consciousness soon. The pain was becoming unbearable, with dizziness and wavering vision making it difficult to see well enough to finish.

When he finally accomplished the task, he slowly rose to his feet, moaning with the constant, unremitting pain he was experiencing. Staggering over to a bed set against the wall, he laid down. His body was shaking from the movement he had put it through, with fine tremors coursing through all his limbs. He closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself, and lost consciousness almost immediately.

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan had been sitting in the garrison dining area for well over an hour. Aramis had been expected to return by mid-afternoon, and it was evening now. It had begun to rain in the early afternoon, and it was now pouring its heart out, with a strong wind added, as well. They were concerned, as it wasn't like Aramis to be late, knowing they would be concerned.

Porthos said, "Maybe he decided to call it a night, and stopped at an inn along the way."

None of them thought that was really a possibility, but none of them wanted to voice aloud their concern that something might have happened. After waiting another hour, Athos said, "If he isn't back by morning, I will ask Treville for permission to go find him." They hoped he would be there with a laugh and an excuse in the morning, but were very much afraid he wouldn't. The thought of their beloved brother being out alone somewhere in this storm was worrying them all.

The stocky, tow-headed man was furious with himself. His brothers tried to calm him down, but he wasn't accepting his failure to kill the man who had caused his youngest brother's death. "Albert, you had a good shot at him, and you did hit him,"said his next oldest brother, Julien.

Albert was having none of it. "He was able to ride away. We didn't kill him like we promised our brother on his grave."

Jean tried a different tack. "Why don't we follow the trail, and see if we can find him then? How hard can it be? He is wounded, after all."

Albert agreed, replying, "He is a King's Musketeer. He is a witness to what we tried to do to him. He could bring the law down on us and get us hung. We can't let him live. And we can't let our brother's death remain unavenged. Let's find him, brothers," as they all nodded in agreement and mounted their horses.


	3. Chapter 3

D'Artagnan needed to go see Constance for a moment before they left. She saw him coming, and came to meet him. "What's wrong," she asked him as he kissed her good morning.

"How do you do that," he mused.

"I can read your face like a book, you know," she teased.

"Aramis never came back from Pontlevoy yesterday. It's not like him. He knows it will worry us that something might have happened. So, we are going to find him."

Constance' face reflected her feelings. "It is a beautiful thing to see how all of you look out for each other. It is a good feeling, too, because when you ride out on some mission and I do not know what might be going on, I know they have your back. I hope Aramis is all right," as she kissed him goodbye.

"We leave first thing in the morning. We will find him and bring him back safe," d'Artagnan murmured.

When Aramis finally regained consciousness, it was night. He wondered vaguely how long he had been out, and then remembered he needed to take care of his injuries. Moving was extremely painful, but he knew if he didn't, he might never get up again. Sliding himself inch by inch to the edge of the bed, he forced himself upright with his right arm. He could tell he was becoming feverish, and dizziness and nausea from the pain had a firm grip on him. From the blood soaking the mattress and the front of his shirt and doublet, he realized he had lost a lot of blood, and needed to bind the wound up as best he could.

He slowly undid his doublet, and took it off, moaning as the movement intensified his pain. He pulled his shirt open, gasping as he saw the extent of the wound. It was large, ragged and deep, and it was still bleeding. He thought the ball was still inside him, as he had no pain from an exit wound in his back. The medic in him knew that if the ball stayed for too long inside, he risked dying from infection. He also hoped it wasn't like a lot of musket wounds he had treated as a medic, ones that gathered anything in their path (dirt, bits of clothing etc.) and forced it inside along with the ball. These things were quite often what ended someone's life, as it could and did cause infections, as well. He had no way to tell if that had happened in his case. He had no water to clean the wound, so, tearing several pieces from his shirt, he set to work wiping the blood off the wound. He had to stop often, as just touching the wound nearly made him black out, and he would give his body a moment to calm down a little. Then, he made a pad with one of the pieces, and using his blue sash, he laboriously wound it tightly around his torso to hopefully staunch the bleeding. An added benefit of it being tight would be that it could help hold any cracked or broken ribs in place, as well. But pulling it tight required all the reserves he had, and left his breathing faint and unsteady.

All this had taken its toll on his already weakened and fever-wracked body. The movements had incited the pain levels to new highs, and he was in the worst torment of his life.

As groggy as he was, he tried to keep his mind from succumbing. Thoughts of Anne and the Dauphin floated in and out. They needed his protection, even though it always had to be just as a Musketeer, not as their family. He had to survive to at least be at the periphery of their lives, a watchful,loving presence to those he loved with all his heart.

His attacker was still out there somewhere, but he could just hope and pray they thought they had fatally injured him and wouldn't track him down here. He was unable to move elsewhere, and without weapons, unable to defend himself if that should happen.

He hoped that his brothers would come for him, but felt a little hopeless at their being able to figure out what happened, or where he was. He was less than half a day's ride from Paris, but it might as well be the other end of the world. This was out in the country in an abandoned house with no road in sight.

His body curled up in a fetal position in an attempt to protect itself. He could feel his body surrendering more and more to the pain, shock, and stress it was under, as he finally lost his battle to the encroaching darkness which enveloped him.

Athos and Porthos were impatient to set out first thing in the morning, after notifying the Captain that Aramis might be in trouble. D'Artagnan joined them in the courtyard, leading their horses. Their young Gascon had taken it upon himself to rise very early to feed and saddle their horses, the worry evident on his face reflecting their own. Treville, after giving them the needed time off to search, had sent them off with his blessing, saying "Find your brother and bring him back to us."

They figured he had probably left the Abbey, and was somewhere between there and Paris, but that covered a great deal of ground. Luckily, they knew what road he liked to use, one they all used, when traveling in this part of the country. They had a sense of great urgency to find him before it was too late, but knew they needed to take things slow so they didn't miss any sign they might encounter which might give them a clue as to what had happened, and where he was now.


	4. Chapter 4

When Aramis struggled back to consciousness, it had grown considerably colder in the dark house. The fire had long since gone out, and he didn't think he would make it off the bed, let alone over to the fireplace. Fine tremors coursed through his pain-wracked body, and shivers from the cold added to his misery. He felt dampness under him, and knew his wound had started once more to bleed. His head felt like it was wrapped in cotton, and his eyesight was blurred. He was a medic. He knew the signs.

He never imagined he would meet death in an out-of-the-way cottage in the middle of nowhere, utterly alone. If he had thought about it at all, he had several pictures in his mind. One would be where his brothers surrounded him on the battlefield after they had defeated a superior number of the enemy, their hands piled one above another as they said, "One for all, all for one" one last time. He could see Porthos, his oldest friend, tears unashamedly falling; Athos, anguish written on the normally stoic, emotionless face that hid the fierce love he had for his brothers; d'Artagnan, young and impetuous, wanting to be able to do something to drive death away for his brother.

The other image was newer to his mind, but no less precious to him. He saw Anne and his son curled up on the bed beside him, spending the last few precious moments of his life as a family. She had known so little love in her life, and he didn't want to leave her alone again. The Dauphin would never really know him, his real father. It was indeed a hopeless dream, but he could at least have the image to give him a little comfort to distract him just a little from the otherwise all-encompassing pain.

Instead, it seemed his life would end in, to him, the worst sort of way. He had always been a sociable person. He loved his times of privacy, but also relished all the many varieties of people he encountered in his life, high-born and low, men and women, young and old. To end with no one near for miles was a penance he never thought to bear. He prayed for his brothers, for Anne and the Dauphin, the safety of the country of his birth that he had always been proud to defend. His mind fought to retain consciousness, but finally he surrendered to the dark, where there was no pain.

As morning dawned, Albert and his brothers rose to seek their quarry once again. They searched the ground off the main road diligently. Towards midday, their perseverance paid off. Julien gave a whoop and shouted for his brothers, who had spread out in the fields. When they had gathered, Julien showed them the horse's tracks he had found.

"It has to be him. There are very few signs of anyone around here. Let's follow and see what we find."

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan had been discouraged the night before, when they had to make camp for the night. They didn't like the idea of leaving the trail before finding Aramis, not knowing what had happened to their brother. But they couldn't look for hoofprints or other signs of where he was in the dark. Early the next morning, they rose, hoping they would unearth clues to follow this day.

They decided to split up and search the fields on either side of the road, unknowingly doing exactly what Albert and his brothers had done.

Albert came upon the stacked logs fairly soon after starting to follow the horse's track. He signaled to his brothers to halt. Dismounting, they fanned out around the log pile, and Julien, excitement in his voice, shouted, "Look here!"

Albert said, "It looks like the horse tried jumping over these logs, but landed badly on the other side. See the crushed grass and blood? I think our Musketeer lost his seat and fell here. The horse's tracks took off that way, towards Paris. Our Musketeer is around here somewhere."

It didn't take them long to notice the small run-down house in the distance. Albert almost crowed, "What do you want to make a bet he holed up there. I know I hit him pretty good. He wouldn't have been able to make it far. Let us go see if we have run him to ground, brothers."

D'Artagnan didn't know how he happened to notice the blood. It was almost on the underside of the leaves on a bush. If he had not seen it at the right angle, he would have passed right by unknowing. As it was, he was excited-finally, maybe a clue to where their missing brother was. He got down and circled the area on foot slowly, leading his horse by the reins. And then, he found them-hoofprints, heading in a westward direction. Giving two sharp whistles, he impatiently waited for Athos and Porthos to come in answer.

They weren't long in getting to him, hoping against hope that he had found a clue to Aramis' whereabouts. Dismounting when the met up with him, d'Artagnan showed them both the blood and the hoofprints. They all worried when they saw the blood, not knowing what could have happened. Hurriedly, they remounted and set off in the direction of the prints.

Not long after, they saw several other hoofprints join the first, solitary set of prints.

Athos' face was grim as he saw this. "I am hoping these tracks do not belong to someone hunting our brother." But as they had noticed not many people seemed to frequent this area, they were afraid that is exactly what they were. Mounting quickly, they took off, with d'Artagnan leading the way, following the trail the hooves left.


	5. Chapter 5

Aramis' pursuers approached the house jubilant that they were finally going to end the hunt. They believed Aramis had been hit pretty badly, but they had also heard stories, almost legends, of the bravery and toughness of the King's Musketeers, so they moved slowly and cautiously towards the door. Opening it, they immediately saw Aramis lying still on the bed against the far wall.

Aramis had been in a half-conscious state since dawn. He had thought before he passed out again in the middle of the night that he would not awaken again. He had made his peace before the darkness came.

He heard when the door opened, and hoped it might be his brothers at long last. Opening his eyes, he saw four complete strangers approaching him, faces grim and angry, and realized his worst nightmare was, in fact, reality. His would-be killers had found him.

Albert stood looking down on Aramis, his face of fury as he beheld the man he believed had gunned down his baby brother.

"At long last, we meet face-to-face, Musketeer. I had thought I had put you to death yesterday, but it looks like we need to have a final execution. Get him on his feet, brothers."

Aramis, obviously badly hurt and helpless, was nonetheless, yanked to his feet and held upright while one of the brothers bound his hands before him. Two of the men grabbed the rope and began hauling him towards the door. He was unable to stand on his own, and fell. They continued dragging him-across the rough wood floor and out the door.

Albert indicated an old, wide-spreading oak near the house, and he was dragged underneath it. He had no strength left in him to struggle. Silently, he prayed for help. He had been prepared for death the night before, but not like this.

He tried to speak to them. "Please, why are you doing this? What have I..."

He got no further, as just hearing Aramis' voice seemed to infuriate Albert even further. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, stuffing it roughly in Aramis' mouth, silencing him. Aramis choked at the rough cloth filling his mouth. Albert said, "We do not need to hear your protests of innocence, Musketeer. We know what you have done, and we are going to finally end your existence once and for all."

They tied another rope to the ones around his wrists, then threw it over a low-hanging branch. Then, they hauled him up a couple of feet off the ground, and tied the rope off. Aramis' broken shoulder, already painful, erupted in agony at the pulling from the rope. Aramis, unable to make a sound, could only whimper behind the gag from the new pain to his already traumatized body.

"You will die here, Musketeer, slowly and very painfully. It may take hours, or, since we tied you so close to the ground, maybe some animal hunting prey will put a period to your existence sooner. Either way, we will finally rid ourselves permanently of our brother's killer. Goodbye!"

Incredibly, he doffed his hat in derision. Then, he mounted, moved closer, and pushed Aramis' body, causing him to begin swaying back and forth. They left laughing as they watched Aramis weakly and ineffectively struggle against the ropes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan had been following the tracks across the countryside, hoping they would reach Aramis first before his enemies found him. They finally came upon the massive mound of tree trunks, where the trail ended. Slowly circling around the pile, Athos noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Squinting against the sun's glare, he saw a sight that froze him in his tracks. A body was hanging and slowly swinging back and forth from a tree near a small house in the distance.

Leaping into his saddle, he took off towards the sight, d'Artagnan and Porthos quickly following. As they neared the tree, their hearts clenched at the sight of their brother's bloody body held suspended above the ground.

"ARAMIS!", they shouted as one, out of their saddles and running towards him, with fear that they might be too late.

Porthos had his main gauche in hand before they reached the tree. Reaching up, he quickly sliced through the rope, Athos and d'Artagnan catching him gently as he fell. Laying him on the grass, Athos pulled the cloth from Aramis' mouth while d'Artagnan cut through the rope around his wrists.

Athos reached tentatively towards Aramis' throat to check for a pulse, praying that they hadn't been too late. At first, when he laid his fingers gently against Aramis' throat, he couldn't feel anything at all. Agonized, he tried again, only to again feel no movement at all.

Leaning down and softly speaking in Aramis' ear, Athos begged, "Aramis, it's Athos. We are here for you. Please don't do this, brother."

HIs fingers felt something, so slight he thought he was imagining it. Forcing himself to be as still as he could, he felt again. It was there-faint, light as a whisper,but there. His turned and looked upwards to his brothers' fearful faces, tears flowing down freely, and said, "He is alive. Our brother is alive!"


	6. Chapter 6

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis' comrades carefully lifted him up, and carried him inside the house. They saw the bed against the far wall, and coming nearer, the blood-soaked sheet. D'Artagnan pulled the sheet off, and laid his own cloak down. They laid Aramis gently on the bed. He had shown no sign of consciousness since they had found him.

Athos said, "We need to start a fire to warm this place up for him. Then, we will undress him and assess his condition, so we will know how to help him."

D'Artagnan busied himself with the fire, while Athos and Porthos undressed Aramis, leaving him clad only in his braies. His body was a mass of blood and bruises. His shoulder was terribly swollen, and they did not know yet if it was broken or dislocated. The gunshot wound was, by far, the most serious and dangerous of all his injuries. Athos lifted Aramis just slightly to see his back, and sighed.

"It is as I suspected. The wound was made by a musket, and we all know how dangerous they can be, as the ball pulls everything in its path inside along with it. There is no exit wound. The bullet is still in his body. We will have to get it out, clean it as well as we can, then cauterize it. I just hope he stays unconscious until we have done so. I don't want to cause him any more pain."

They got canteens from their saddles to wash some of the blood away. Then, d'Artagnan brought a knife heated over the flames to use to dig the musket ball out. Athos wished with all his heart he did not have to be the one to do this. Aramis was the skilled medic, and had treated more wounds and other injuries for them than Athos cared to count. But now, their beloved brother was the one needing their care. He couldn't fail him now.

He gingerly inserted the knife into the wound and began to probe for the ball. He couldn't see inside, but could only move the knife gently around for it. Finally, not encountering it, he laid the knife aside and, expelling a soft sigh, inserted two fingers instead. Being able to feel where he was probing now, he soon found the ball and removed it. He was feeling exhausted from the tension, but wasn't able to feel relief yet, for they now had to clean the wound and cauterize it to seal it closed.

Porthos laid his hand on Athos' shoulder, and said, ""Let me clean the wound, Athos. Rest for a bit. Takin' the ball out had to be very painful for you, as just watchin' it was for d'Artagnan and me." Silently, Athos moved a short distance away for Porthos to take his place, but needing to stay as close as possible to the brother they had nearly lost.

Porthos took a clean, damp cloth and began gently sponging the blood, dirt and grass from the wound. Although not conscious, Aramis still moved his head restlessly to and fro, whimpering against the pain it caused him. Athos laid his hand on Aramis' head, softly running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. D'Artagnan, in a similar need to calm their brother, laid his hand upon Aramis' shoulder to let him know he wasn't alone.

When Porthos was finished, D'Artagnan went to the fireplace and brought Porthos' knife to Athos, white-hot from where it had been heating in the fireplace. Athos took it rather gingerly, steeling himself to lay the metal against his friend's wound. And then, he saw Aramis' eyelids begin to flutter open. No, he silently screamed. I can't do this to you when you are aware. I can't do it!

He found himself staring into the glazed, pain-filled eyes of his beloved brother, who looked dazed and confused.

"Aramis, it's Athos. Can you hear me? You're safe now. We are here for you."

Aramis tried to give him a cheeky smile, but grimaced in pain instead. Then, he noticed the knife in Athos' hand, and his eyes went wide in comprehension.

Athos saw when Aramis' eyes recognized what they were about to do. "We have to do it, old friend. You, of all people, know what can happen if a musket ball wound is not cleaned and closed. I am so sorry to have to be the one to do this, brother."

Aramis nodded weakly, and said, "I...I know. J..Just d..do it."

Athos readied himself, then, in one swift motion, laid the blade against the wound. Aramis' whole body arched off the bed, and his scream tore at their hearts. Each of them felt as if they would hear that agonizing scream for the rest of their lives. Then, he went totally limp, as he totally lost consciousness. Athos checked his pulse, nodding to his brothers that Aramis was still with them. They all breathed a huge sigh of relief, each of them wishing they could have taken his place, instead of inflicting yet more pain on their injured brother.

They were still not finished. They needed to tend Aramis' shoulder, and other injuries. Athos probed Aramis' shoulder as softly as possible, deducing that it was broken, not dislocated. It had stayed in place, which was a wonder in itself, considering the amount of trauma Aramis' body had undergone. The area was cleaned, then bound against his body with clean cloths, to keep it as immobile as possible. It was all they could do at the moment until they got him home to the garrison.

With Aramis mostly unclad, it was clear to all of them from the huge black and purple area on his chest that one or probably more than one rib was cracked or broken. Sighing once more at the amount of damage done to the brother they loved so much, Athos gently wound clean cloths around his chest as tightly as possible without hurting him more. Porthos then brought another damp cloth, and cleaned the dirt, grime and blood from the other areas of Aramis' body, and then pulled a blanket over him to keep him warm.

When they were finally finished tending their brother, all three pairs of eyes met over him in a silent vow. They would not leave their brother alone again until he recovered (each of them refusing to say aloud the words "if he recovered"). Then, they would find the creatures who had done this to him and utterly destroy them.

They divvied up the time through the night for each of them to sit with Aramis. But none of them wanted to be anywhere but at his side. So, Athos stayed at the head of the bed, with his hand resting on Aramis' hair, Porthos on the side holding his hand, and d'Artagnan rested his hand upon his brother's knee. And there they stayed, awake, for the rest of the night,secure in the knowledge that they had their brother back with them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unfortunately, Albert and his brothers had left behind a medallion that had belonged to their slain little brother. So, they circled back to retrieve it. They were pulled up short by the sight of three horses outside the house, and no sign of Aramis hanging from the tree any more. They assumed it was Musketeers who had been looking for, and had found their comrade, as who else would be out here in the middle of nowhere?

Albert swore softly, and said, "So once again he has cheated death. We cannot attempt anything right now, not with three trained soldiers to fight. It will be hard, but we will bide our time. Vengeance shall be ours, my brothers."

With that comment, they slowly turned their horses and headed for Paris.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Several times during the night, Aramis awakened his brothers by restlessly tossing his head from side to side, crying out in pain. He seemed to be reliving some part of his ordeal, alone and without hope of rescue. Each time, they spoke to him in hushed voices, calming him and reassuring him they were there for him and he was, at last, safe. He would quiet and become still once again, but his breathing stayed ragged and fast. None of them got any sleep that night, but neither did they care. They would keep their brother safe, and bring him home again safe and sound, and woe to anyone who attempted to stop them.


	7. Chapter 7

I am so sorry I left you hanging, but I was at the hospital yesterday for a procedure, and the day before with prep. I am so glad that you are enjoying my story. There is still quite a bit of story left, with Aramis' dire situation and Albert and his vengeful brother coming back later. Hope you enjoy!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Next morning, Athos called his brothers together a slight distance from the bed. He said, " We need to get Aramis to take some food and water. He has been at least 2 days without, and is more than likely dehydrated by now.

Porthos laid his hand upon Aramis' good shoulder, lightly tapping it to awaken him. "Come on, Aramis, can you open your eyes for us, please?"

It took several tries before he saw movement under Aramis' eyelids, and then his eyes blinking open and shut again, as he came back gradually to consciousness. His eyes,pain-glazed and beyond tired, opened at last and looked at Porthos.

Porthos, for his part, was delighted to see his old friend awake and recognizing him. "I know you're in pain, brother, but you need water and some food. You feel up to it?"

Aramis, still groggy from sleep, was slow to comprehend. Athos leaned over and murmured to him, "Will you try to drink some water for us, Aramis, please?"

With a small nod of his head, Aramis assented, although all he really wanted to do was rest. He didn't think he had ever been this tired, and his body constantly let him know how much in pain it was.

As Porthos was filling a cup with water, Athos spoke in an undertone, saying, "We need to get some pain meds in him. Let's try putting some in his water. At least, he will be able to get some sleep that is hopefully pain-free and maybe without nightmares if the meds work."

Porthos replied, "Will he swallow? He'll know it from the taste. He's the medic, remember? It's usually him forcing them into us."

"I intended for us tell him first then. He knows we only want to help him."

"We can try. He's forced some mighty bad tasting things down our throats, but is a horrible patient himself. He can be awful stubborn."

Athos brought a cup to the bed. Sitting down, he leaned forward and put the edge of the cup to Aramis' lips. "Drink. We put some pain meds in the water so you can rest easy. Will you take it?"

Aramis opened his mouth, but when he smelled the concoction, he turned his head away. "Smells aw..awful."

After several exasperating tries, Athos resorted to something he knew Aramis would comply with. "Aramis, I am your Captain. I order you to drink this now." He felt terrible using his position to force Aramis to obey, but he knew it would quiet the pain and allow his brother a little uninterrupted rest, something he badly needed now, so he swallowed his conscience.

Glaring at Athos, Aramis slowly opened his mouth and allowed the liquid to be slowly trickled in. Once he had swallowed it all, his eyes closed and consciousness left him again, this time peacefully. His brothers heaved a great sigh of relief.

They didn't really think they would be able to leave the next morning. Aramis' injuries were much too extensive to be riding a horse, and they had no cart with them. But they, so far, didn't have permission to stay away from the garrison without word sent.

Athos made a decision, and had d'Artagnan ride back to Paris to inform Treville of their whereabouts and why they were delayed. D'Artagnan really didn't want to leave Aramis just after they found him, but one look at Athos' face let him know arguing wouldn't change his mind. So, he saddled up and left, visiting Aramis' bedside first to wish his brother well before departing, even though Aramis was not conscious to hear his words.

Aramis lay without moving until almost midday. Athos, who was sitting in a chair by his bed dozing with a hand on Aramis' head, felt movement. Looking up, he saw that the pain meds had obviously worn off. Aramis' face was twisted in pain,and he was once again restless. Then, suddenly, he screamed, "No, no!" His whole body was shaking with tremors.

In a quiet voice, Athos attempted to calm him down. "Aramis, it's Athos. You are all right. You were having a nightmare. Can you open your eyes, please? I'm here with you."

Aramis gradually settled down, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to open his eyes. Then, he opened them, looking at Athos in recognition.

In a voice so soft, it was barely audible, Aramis asked, "What ...," before a fit of coughing stopped him.

Porthos, who had come back in from getting more kindling, brought a canteen to the bed when he saw his friend begin to cough. Holding it to Aramis' lips, he said,

Drink Aramis. It's just water."

Athos lifted him up enough to drink. Aramis was as weak as a kitten, laying limp in his arms. The tremors throughout his body still wracked him, and he was as pale as a ghost. He drank the water, then Athos laid him gently back down on the bed.

Aramis tried again, "Why did they ...," but he couldn't finish,

Athos responded sadly, "We do not know why this happened, Aramis. Someone obviously had a serious grudge against you, but for what reason, we have no idea."

Aramis was exhausted, even with the little time he had been conscious, but said, "Said I k..killed their b..brother."

Athos told him, "We will find them, and they will wish they never encountered us, of that you can be sure, Aramis. Now, you need to rest. I will get the pain meds for you again, and this time, please do not give me any trouble," smiling as he teased him.

After Aramis took the pain meds with a little water, he slept almost immediately. Athos and Porthos became uneasy soon after, though, as they could see the beginnings of a fever in their brother: clammy skin, sweating, and restlessness, even with the pain meds in effect. They worried for their brother, as he was already terribly weak and in pain. What would a fever do to him?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The fever increased in intensity throughout the evening and through the night. Again, as the first night they had Aramis back, none of the brothers would leave his bedside. When the fever would cause him to thrash his head and body about, and he would groan with the pain it caused the wounds he bore, they would each position themselves to keep him still on the bed, fearful that the movements would break open the just closed musket wound or disturb the broken bones. He refused to drink any water when they attempted to give it to him. They would put cool cloths on his forehead and chest in an attempt to calm the fever raging within him, but they didn't seem to have any effect.

Then, towards morning, they noticed his body begin to quiet down. Porthos said, "Maybe the fever is done?"

They wanted to hope, but knew they needed to wait before getting their hopes up, as they had all seen fevers calm and rise again fiercing than before. By mid-morning, thougn, he was still calm and unmoving. They each breathed a sigh of relief that the fever would not claim their brother, and he still had a chance to recover.

Athos said, "When he awakens, we need to not only get more water into him, but try and get him to eat something-maybe broth. He nearly did not make it, and without nourishment, he will not be strong enough to fight for his life."

By mid-afternoon, Aramis showed signs of regaining consciousness again. He weakly moved his head, moaning as even the slight movement caused his injuries to flare to life. His eyes flickered open, gazing slowly from Athos' face, to Porthos, to d'Artagnan, his eyes registering recognition that his brothers were surrounding him.

Athos quietly murmured, "Aramis, it's Athos. We are all here for you. We would like to give you some broth, to give your body a chance to regain a little of its strength. We will not force you, however. Would you try it for us?"

He was silent for a moment, and they were afraid he was going to pass out again. But, after a moment, he gave a slight nod of assent.

Porthos came around to the head of the bed, and leaning over Aramis, told him, "I will lift you just high enough to be able to take the broth. Eat as much as you can for us, ok?"

LIfting him incredibly gently, considering the strength this gentle giant contained within him, he held Aramis steady with his arms beneath his shoulders and head. Athos spoonfed him as much as Aramis was able to take, before he weakly shook his head "enough".

Athos told him, "You did well, Aramis. Would you take some more water with pain meds before we let you sleep again?" He received a very weak and slow nod, indicating that Aramis was almost out again.

They managed to get him to swallow half the glass before sleep claimed their beloved brother, but this time, without the fever that had almost taken him from them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Treville arrived next morning, with d'Artagnan and two other Musketeers. Athos came out the door to meet him, not wanting to disturb the much-needed rest Aramis needed.

Treville said, "D'Artagnan filled me in on what happened. How is he?"

Athos told him, "He nearly did not make it yesterday. He fought a very high fever, but fortunately, survived it. He is resting now."

Treville wanted to see him right away. Athos brought him inside, where the Captain sped across the room to his injured Musketeer's bedside. Aramis seemed to sense something, and his eyes slowly opened, beholding his Captain.

` Treville gave a wide smile. "It is good to see you back with us, Aramis. Your brothers have been very worried about you. How are you feeling?"

Aramis was silent for a moment, still only half-awake. Then, he replied, "N..not my best. Why... w..would ...", grimaced in pain, and passed out once more.

Treville was very concerned. Aramis was obviously in very bad shape. He was unable to stay awake for more than a few moments at a time. Athos told him Aramis was very confused each time he awoke about what had happened to him.

The Captain decided they needed to chance the journey in the cart he had brought with them. Aramis needed to be seen by Dr. Lemay as quickly as possible. He told Athos to get the cart ready by piling any and all blankets and even their doublets in the cart for Aramis to be laid upon, and covered with to cushion him as much as possible from the rough road they would be traveling. Then, they transferred Aramis to the cart. All three of his comrades insisted they were riding in the cart with him, not wanting to be separated now. Within seconds of getting in, Porthos had Aramis' head in his lap, and the others were busily tucking blankets around him. Then, their hands settled on their friend's head, hand and shoulder, so he would know he wasn't alone if he awoke, and stayed as they began the journey.


	8. Chapter 9

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Constance loved working with the Queen. Anne treated her as a friend, and confided in her about everything, even requesting that she call her Anne when they were alone, not Your Majesty. But, Constance had been quietly talking with d'Artagnan about Aramis, and the Queen had overheard. She was very upset that Constance had withheld information about someone she knew Anne cared very deeply for.

"I have to go to him. I have to see with my own eyes how he is doing. My heart is breaking for him, that he may be dy...". She couldn't say the words, couldn't say that the man she loved might not survive.

Constance was very worried that if Anne made an incognito visit to Aramis, someone was going to see, and it could cost both Aramis and Anne their lives. The King could flaunt his mistress before Anne and the whole Court with no repercussions, but it was considered high treason for Anne to look at another man, or for a man to gaze upon her. She didn't know how she could stop Anne from going to Aramis, as when Her Majesty was determined enough, nothing stopped her. And love was a mighty powerful force to reckon with.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Towards evening of the second day, the brothers heard a soft moan from the bed. Standing and gathering around him, they watched hopefully as Aramis began to slowly come awake at last. His head moved slowly back and forth, then his eyelids attempted to open, blinking rapidly against the light. Athos told d'Artagnan to quickly go close the window, as the light was too much for Aramis at the moment.

As the room darkened, Aramis again tried opening his eyes, and this time kept them open, gazing around in confusion.

Athos leaned down and said softly, "Aramis, it's Athos. We are all here. It is good to see you open your eyes once more, brother."

Aramis' eyes slowly gazed up at Athos' face, then moved on to d'Artagnan, finally settling on Porthos, who had a huge smile lighting up his countenance. "It's about time you woke up, Aramis!"

D'Artagnan just smiled and said, "We have been very worried about you, Aramis."

Aramis' face still showed confusion, so Athos spoke again. "We very nearly lost you, Aramis, and are beyond glad that you have awakened at last."

Aramis' face still showed confusion. When Athos asked, "Do you remember anything that happened to you?", he slowly shook his head, even that movement causing him to catch his breath and gasp.

"Some men tried to kill you, Aramis. They shot at you from ambush, then later found you and tried to kill you again. Dr. Lemay came yesterday and reopened the wound we had cauterized, as debris had collected in it and caused infection. Now, you should be able to heal."

Aramis tried to respond, but began coughing when he tried. Porthos was at his side immediately with a cup of water, holding it to his lips while Athos gently lifted him up a little to drink. Even this small movement exhausted him, and his eyes started drooping closed once more. As he fell asleep once more, they heard him say in a faint voice, "Thank you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the early evening, a soft knock sounded on Aramis' door. Athos was alone with Aramis, as Porthos and d'Artagnan had been called to the palace. Standing at the door with his pistol cocked, Athos asked, "Who is it?" a faint voice replied, incredibly sounding like a woman's. Curious now, Athos cracked the door open, nearly gasping in surprise as he saw the Queen, accompanied by Constance. Both women had the hoods of the cloaks pulled down over the upper half of their faces, to prevent recognition. Athos swiftly bade them enter, closing the door behind them.

Anne had eyes for only one person, and had already flown to Aramis' bedside, kneeling beside him. Tears began flowing down her face when she saw how pale and ill he looked. She gently took her hand in his, bringing it to her cheek and kissing it.

"Oh, Aramis, what have they done to you, my love?", she cried.

Aramis seemed to sense someone was there, as he began shifting slightly, then waking in wonder to see Anne with him.

She, for her part, caressed his cheek, and said, "Please get well, Aramis. I ... we need you. Your son needs you, as do I."

"Your Majesty..."

"No, Aramis, Anne. I am your Anne," she whispered, still stroking his cheek lovingly. "When we are alone, it will always be Anne. Formality does not belong between us then. I cannot stay long. I will be missed. I just had to see that you yet live."

Athos, who had been silently observing, came forward now. "Your Majesty should probably return now. It is very dangerous for both of you here. I will keep you informed on how he is doing."

Anne reluctantly let go of Aramis' hand, and leaning down, kissed him softly, saying, "Live for us, Aramis. My heart is yours."Then, turning, she left with Constance, after Athos had checked that the coast was clear.

When Athos came back into the room, he went to Aramis, who had once more fallen asleep, this time with a tiny smile gracing his face. He looked peaceful for the first time since they had found him, for which he was so grateful.

He was also grateful that the timing of the Queen's visit was while his brothers had been at the palace. Explaining this situation would have opened a whole situation that he did not relish right now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, when Aramis awoke, Dr. Lemay was sitting by his bedside. He had come by to check up on his patient, and found him finally at rest in his sleep and no infection present in the musket wound. His brothers were standing around his bedside smiling, which caused a questioning look to appear on his face as he looked from one to the other.

Athos replied to his unspoken question by saying, "Dr. Lemay has just told us you are finally beginning to heal. As long as you rest and take the meds he has prescribed, it may take a while yet, but you should recover. But we know how bad a patient you can be, so you will still not be left alone as long as you are as weak as a kitten. An overconfident move could reverse all his good work. We will take turns keeping you company for the next few days."

Aramis, who had as yet said nothing since he had awakened, frowned at this. With a voice raspy from next to no use for several days, he said, "I am a medic. I know more about wounds and healing than all of you. I do not need a wet nurse at my side, as much as I love you all."

Porthos replied, "Can you hear yourself? You are completely out of breath, and almost gasping every few words. The slightest moves you attempt result in pain. You are not well, and your body needs rest. We will be here to be sure you take it, brother."

D'Artagnan chimed in, "We nearly lost you, Aramis. We don't want to see you endanger yourself by trying too much too soon. Just lay back and enjoy us at your beck and call for a few days, please."

Aramis was silent for a few moments. Then, he surprised them all by giving in eating the chicken broth and taking some more pain meds in a very docile mood, Aramis promptly fell asleep again. His body couldn't see to stay awake for very long stretches yet. But his body could heal much quicker with large amounts of rest. Of them all, Athos was the only able to surmise what had run through Aramis' mind in those several quiet moments. He was obviously wide enough awake when the Queen was there to here everything she had said to him. He was agreeing to be a compliant patient for her and for his son's sake. He surprisingly felt very grateful for her visit, and exceedingly grateful that their brother was now beginning the road to healing at last.


	9. Chapter 10

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis again slept through the night-no nightmares, no restlessness. He awoke the next morning lucid, and when they asked if he would like to eat some breakfast, smiled and nodded. They looked at each other over Aramis' head, and silently agreed, "He really is back."

Over the next few days, Aramis ate, slept, and actually let everyone do for him. It was rare to see him this docile, but they were very happy he was doing so, as it was what he needed most to recover. He still slept more than he was awake, and for many hours at a time, but that, too, was very good.

Then, came the morning he announced that he would like to try sitting, and maybe even standing. The fact that he suggested rather than announced this caused them to go along with it, although Porthos stood right at his side in case he collapsed, while Athos and d'Artagnan ranged themselves a short distance from him, just in case. Aramis slowly eased himself up to a sitting position. Then, even more slowly swung his legs, one at a time, over the side of the bed. Taking a somewhat shaky breath, he gradually stood up, leaning naturally against Porthos' solid presence next to him. He took a step forward, then another.

Looking around at each of them, he smiled. Then, he tried a third step, and his legs suddenly buckled. Porthos caught him around the waist, and said teasingly, "All right, brother, we know you're tough. Now, back to bed, and we will try this again tomorrow."

Aramis, suddenly out of breath and shaky, agreed. But he still had a smile on his face when he was once more prone on the bed. It was the first positive day he had had, and he felt very good about it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert and his brothers had lain low for some time now, plotting and finally deciding on a plan to finish their mission. They stayed in an inn not far from the Musketeers' garrison, and kept a watchful eye on their day-to-day routines, familiarizing themselves with how many men were there and when they came and went from the gates.

Once they found out which room was Aramis', they kept a special eye on the 3 Musketeers who were taking care of him. They noticed that none of the three spent much time away from the room, which was going to make their job much more is, until the day that Jean came up with what they believed would be the perfect solution to realize their goal.

Albert smile was positively gloating and, at the same time, nasty, as he said, "He will be totally alone, and at our mercy."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few days had gone by, with Aramis trying his wings a little more each day until he was able to walk all the way around his room without leaning on one of his brothers or being stymied by shaky legs.

He now wanted to try going out to the table they usually had their meals around. He had not been outside for nearly two weeks, but they thought it might still be a little too soon. Aramis insisted, saying he really felt up to it now, so they relented.

By the time he made it to the table, Aramis was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. But he was jubilant at his success. "I told you I could do it."

Serge was beaming from ear to ear to see who he would be serving lunch to that day. "Your favorite-chicken stew, Aramis, in honor of your presence here again."

They had a long, relaxed lunch, talking about anything and everything. Rising to return to his room, Aramis became very dizzy all of a sudden. Porthos and Athos understood that he may have overdone himself a little that day, and linking arms around him, escorted him to his room, and told him to take a long rest. Athos stayed behind to sit in the corner of the room, while Porthos finally was able to get a good night's sleep, not that he had ever minded their nightly rotation recently.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Anne had not been this happy in a long time. D'Artagnan had come to visit Constance, and while here, had relayed the very good news that Aramis was out of danger of death now. She had been so worried about him, but knew she couldn't risk going to him again. She had risked so much in going even once, and she would not bring danger to him or to her son. She didn't know what she would have done if Aramis had died. But now, she had cause for rejoicing, even if only in secret. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Michel, the youngest of the brothers, came back hurriedly that afternoon from his garrison watch. He was excited and worried both to share his news with his brothers.

"Albert," he called loudly as soon as he came into their room. His brothers gathered around him, seeing that he had news.

"We need to get out plan in motion very soon. That Musketeer was well enough today to come outside for his meal. He will be back to full strength before we know it, and it will be much harder to take care of business. He did need assistance getting back to his room. Probably did a little too much today, but it won't be long now."

Albert agreed. "We will gather supplies, and choose our location. Soon, brothers, soon, it will finally be over."


	10. Chapter 11

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis was starting to wonder when he would get his strength fully back. The trip outside had shown him that he still needed to take it easy. The wound still reminded him of his ordeal, as did the broken bones.

There were reasons why he was considered a bad patient. He hated lying in bed for hours on end. He was determined that he was going to be up and around every day, even if it was walking around his room, or sitting in a chair at the window. He had already asked Treville if he could do some work with the weapons, as long as the work could be done in his room, and sitting in a chair. Giving permission, he asked if d'Artagnan could bring him some of the pistols to clean, to give him something productive to do. When he asked about trying to go outside again, though, the answer was a resounding "No!", not only from Treville, but from his friends, as well.

Actually, Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan were enjoying taking care of him. He had given them such loving care so many times in the past when they were injured or sick. This was a chance to repay the favor to him, and they were taking full advantage of it.

Athos came and pulled up beside him a chair one day. He asked Aramis if he could think of anyone he might have arrested or killed in the past year that could have looked to an outsider like he had been abusing his authority. Aramis looked offended at the question, but Athos said, "I am not saying you did anything wrong only that it might have looked that way to someone uninvolved."

Aramis wracked his brain, but couldn't think of any situation that fit. Athos told him to just keep it at the back of his mind, and maybe something would come to him. Of course, people didn't always see things rationally either, so it could, and probably was, a mistaken identity situation, which might be impossible to identify.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert was the one on watch one a that night, when Athos left Aramis' room. He was not expecting what he saw. He stared as if he couldn't believe what he saw. "Athos!" Athos was a Musketeer? How? Albert had only been back to the family home for a few months. He had been out of the country for several years. Athos' family had been neighbors as he was growing up. He had heard about Athos' marriage, and the hanging. He had also heard that Athos had left the family home, but just assumed he had gone to the Court, as so many other nobles did then.

He had never liked the man. Athos had the looks, the easy aristocratic manner, the money that Albert had never had. He had also always envied Athos' skill with a sword. He never forgot the time Athos and he had been sparring with their swords, and Athos had seemed like it wasn't even any contest, like he could end it whenever he wanted. And did. Albert didn't like being second-best at anything. It rankled him. And now, here was an old nemesis (albeit just in Albert's head), standiing between him and his revenge. "So, this Aramis is his friend, is he? We will see, we will see," Albert whispered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The day came when Treville decided Aramis could be on limited duty, as long as it was only taking care of weapons and ammunition on the garrison grounds. This freed the others to return to their regular duties. Aramis was overjoyed to be once again productive and released from room restriction, and enthusiastically threw himself into his duties. He was dead tired and sore at the end of the day, but felt like he was once again useful.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albert and his brothers noticed the change in routine, and stepped up their plans.

"We will wait a couple of days, to further lull his friends into a sense of well-being, that everything is back to normal, then we strike." Albert was eager to get things underway, but was no fool, and he could wait a few days longer if necessary.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few days later, Aramis went down to the armoury to work again. He was so happy to be contributing, and his body was trying to get back to normal. It was maddening, though, that he still wasn't able to be free to do all things yet. The musket wound stitches still pulled if he stretched too far, and the broken bones had not completely knit together, either. But Aramis knew he was a very bad patient, he wanted to be well instantly, and that wasn't going to happen. He sighed in frustration.

Halfway through the morning, he heard the bell that sounded when all men were to muster for an emergency. Dropping the musket he had been working on, he headed out to join the muster.

Treville was looking flustered, and telling the assembled men, "The Palace has asked us to join the Red Guard to put out a nasty fire several buildings over from here. They figured the more hands, the better. Athos, you and I will direct matters for everybody, whether the Red Guard like it or not."

Athos turned to Aramis and said, "You are not yet well enough to fight fires. I would like for you to stay in your room until we get back. I am leaving d'Artagnan with you."

He could see that Aramis was preparing to protest, and cut him off. "We need to know you are safe, and you are still healing. It is one thing to be working in the garrison a few hours a day, another entirely to have to move quickly to avoid flames and falling debris. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you there."

Turning, he left behind a disgruntled Aramis, who slowly trudged to his room, as everyone else but d'Artagnan headed out of the garrison gates on their assignment.

Reaching his room, he flung himself down on his bed and decided he would get some rest. Turning over on his side, he was soon asleep, arm flung up over his head.


	11. Chapter 12

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

D'artagnan wasn't exactly thrilled to miss out on the action, but understood that Athos had really left him with their most precious assignment. He went to the kitchen and got a couple of bowls of stew, and headed back to Aramis' room with them.

He had almost reached the door, juggling the bowls, when something slammed into his head, dropping him like a stone. Two of Albert's brothers lifted him up and carried him while Albert quietly opened Aramis' door. They filed in, dumping d'Artagnan's body in the chair near the window. The noise had awakened Aramis, who, on seeing strangers in his room, reached for his pistol.

Albert pointed his pistol at d'Artagnans' head, and said, "I wouldn't, if I were you."

Aramis, seeing d'Artagnan slumped over in the chair with the pistol against his forehead, slowly laid his own weapon down with a sinking feeling. He had now seen the faces of the men, and knew they had come to finish what they had started.

Albert grinned. "Thought you were in the clear, didn't you, Musketeer? The whole garrison is fighting the fire we started. Worked like a charm. This one," indicating d'Artagnan, "didn't put up any fight at all. Never knew what hit him."

Keeping the pistol at d'Artagnan's head, he continued, "You are going to do exactly as I tell you, or he will not live long. And you are going to do it silently. Roll over on your stomach-now!"

Aramis slowly moved onto his stomach, trying to figure out if there was anything he could do to stall them.

"Put your hands behind your back," and he did so, the sinking feeling in his stomach growing stronger with each command.

One of Albert's brothers produced a piece of rope, and bound Aramis' hands as tightly as he could, then did the same for his ankles.

D'Artagnan had slowly regained consciousness while all the focus was mostly on Aramis. He realized these were the men who had almost killed Aramis, and were back to put a finish to him. But he did not know how he could stop them. His head was overwhelmingly dizzy, a gun was pressing at his temple, and they were outnumbered, he hazily thought four to their two. He lay still and waited for a chance to try something.

"Turn around on your back," Aramis was ordered. It was difficult to do, bound as he was, but he finally succeeded. His partially mended shoulder was beginning to protest the awkward movements.

A dirty rag was tied around his mouth, again as tightly as possible. The knot that had been tied in the middle of it rubbed against the back of his mouth.

"Don't like that, do you?", Albert continued. "If you try to make any sound, that knot will rub harder, and make you gag, so I would be silent, if I were you," laughing at the helplessness of their victim.

"Didn't know you had such a good friend in Athos. His lands and ours ran next to each other growing up. Of course, he thought he was so much better than any of us, always looking down his nose at us. We sparred with swords a few times, but he always behaved as if he was just toying with me. Father paid for the finest swordmaster in France to train me, and Athos acted as if I was beneath him. I hated him for that.

But he up and disappeared one day. I guess after he killed his wife, he left to become a Musketeer. I never saw him again, til I saw him coming in and out of your room. I had no idea I would be taking care of two so-called Musketeers. From the attention he gave you, you mean a lot to him. I can rid myself of both of you. After you disappear, it will kill him inside. Makes my heart sing, that does."

He instructed his brothers to stuff Aramis in the large burlap bag they had brought along. Then, he said, "We will take our time with this one." They tied the bag closed, and two of them hefted it up on their shoulders.

As they prepared to leave, d'Artagnan attempted to put up a fight to prevent their exit, but in his condition, all it took was another blow to the temple, and he was out on the floor.

They took Aramis down to the cart they had brought, threw him in the back and pulled a tarpaulin over it. Climbing up themselves, they slowly dircted the cart out of the garrison gates and down the street, looking for all the world like a group of weary workers getting off early from work.

Aramis, in the stifling closeness of the bag, was having a hard time just getting enough air to breathe. It didn't help that the cart jolted over every rut in the road, throwing him back and forth helplessly. He had no idea where the cart was headed, or what awaited him there. He was frankly scared, if he was honest with himself, of being in their hands again, and utterly helpless to prevent whatever they had in mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos had not been at the scene of the fire for very long when he started getting a nagging feeling that something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but it wouldn't go away. He began to feel as if he should go back to the garrison, and check on things there. The whole garrison was rarely left deserted, and he didn't like the situation. He couldn't see the fire being set, but to draw all the Musketeers and Red Guards to the same site and occupied for a long stretch of time didn't set will with him.

Making up his mind, he went in search of Treville to inform him that he would like to return to the garrison long enough to put his worried mind to rest. Treville, knowing how the friends had an intuitive sense for each other, told him to go. As Athos took off in the direction of the garrison, Porthos saw him go, and guessing where, followed in his wake. He knew Athos, and his friend would never leave a situation like they had unless he had a hunch. That he was heading for the garrison, where the only occupants were Aramis and d'Artagnan, was not a good sign.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As he got closer to the garrison, Athos' bad feeling grew by leaps and bounds. He and his brothers could often feel when one of them was in trouble, and as Athos realized that was what the bad feeling was, he moved faster and faster until he was running through the streets, and then through the garrison gates.

He headed straight for Aramis' room, getting there just as d'Artagnan came staggering through the door, holding his head. There was blood on his forehead, and he didn't look like he was going to be able to stand up for much longer.

By now, Porthos had caught up with Athos, and caught d'Artagnan just as he passed out. LIfting him and carrying him into Aramis' room, he laid him down on the bed, panicking at the same time that Aramis was nowhere to be seen.

Athos got some water and a cloth, and sponged the blood on d'Artagnan's head away, and then laid a clean, damp cloth in his forehead. They sat down and tried to be patient for d'Artagnan to wake up again, as he was the only one who might know what had happened.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis had no idea how long they had been traveling. He was in the sack, and couldn't see whether it was day or night, or see which way they had gone. His shoulder was throbbing from his arm having been twisted behind him. He had tried to maneuvre his hands to get free, but the ropes were too tight to make any headway. He had to concentrate on his breathing, as the gag caused restrictions that made it more difficult.

They stopped a couple of times for a short while, but no one came near him in the cart. Then, the bumping of the cart would begin again.

Finally, they stopped and dragged him off the cart and along the ground. He could hear a door opening, and then he was being dragged down some steps, heedless of the number of times his body hit against the steps on the way down. When the steps ended, they threw him down on the ground and pulled him out of the bag at long last. He looked around, guessing that he was in a cellar. There were no windows, and the only light came from the lanterns they were carrying. The floor was dirty and strewn here and there with hay. It looked like no one had used the place for quite some time.

He looked up at the men, and saw pure hatred looking down at him. He didn't understand. What was he supposed to have done that they would look at him with such loathing, and treat him as brutally as they had done today and previously? This was the third time, and he still had no clue as to why.

Albert squatted down beside Aramis and stared at him. Finally, he said, "This time you will not escape us. This is the last place you will ever see. You will stay here until you die, Musketeer."

"You should never have killed our little brother. He was minding his own business, enjoying time with a lady friend at a small tavern in Paris, when you dragged him away from her and killed him. For that, you will die, and it won't be right away, either. You will be locked down here, with no light, no food and no water. We will see how long it takes. We will relieve you of your doublet, shirt, boots and breeches. You will not have any need of them now."

His clothing was torn off of him, leaving him in his braies. The weather was warm, hot even, but he knew the reason the clothing was taken was to humiliate him.

We will leave you now. Enjoy your last days in solitude. The door will be locked from the outside, but since you are tied anyway, you have no way to get up the steps. We are going to take the gag off now. But there is no one around for miles, so feel free to scream and shout as much as you want. No one but us will hear you, or come to your rescue. Goodbye, Musketeer."

With those parting words, his gag was removed, and Aramis was left utterly alone in the dark cellar, unable to move.


	12. Chapter 13

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis tried for hours to loosen the ropes binding him, but had no luck. His wrists were raw and bloody by the time he finally gave up, realizing they wouldn't budge. They had finally taken the gag off, but the aftereffect was an extremely dry mouth, and no way to relieve it. The thought of becoming severely dehydrated and ultimately starving to death from lack of food and water was a particularly horrible way to die, one he didn't want to dwell on too much yet.

His eyes searched the cellar, trying to find anything that he might use to get himself loose, but they obviously had already combed the place to remove any such possibilities. He was beginning to cramp up from laying prone in the same position for hours. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like tomorrow or later. No, he would not think of those possibilities right now. He had to be positive that his comrades would find him.

He wondered if d'Artagnan had heard any of what Albert had been rambling on about at the garrison. If he did, he might have a chance of rescue. It had been a shock to hear Albert saying that he grew up basically next door to Athos' family. If those were his neighbors, no wonder Athos was sometimes such a loner. He may have had no one but close to his own age except Albert to befriend, and from what he had seen of Albert, Athos wouldn't for a moment consider getting close to him. He didn't for a moment think Athos believed himself far superior to everyone around him, not the Athos he knew and loved. But some people believe what they want to believe.

This also probably meant that Albert and his brothers were from a well-to-do or even aristocratic family. Albert obviously thought he could go after and kill one of the King's personal guard and get away with it, and so far he had been right.

He remembered the incident Albert had talked about. But he remembered it far differently. He remembered a terrified young barmaid being held down and raped by a drunken young man. He had warned the man to leave her alone, but had been totally ignored. He had also tried to pull the man off of her, but drink seemed to have given the man a strength that belied his slender frame.

Finally, Aramis had ordered him, in the name of the King, and as a King's Musketeer, to stop what he was doing. Again, he was just ignored. Finally, as the man drew back his fist and struck the woman, Aramis drew his pistol and fired. If the young man hadn't reared back his body to strike again, the bullet would have entered his shoulder. As it was, it killed him instantly.

Aramis had a number of people from the tavern give witness that the man had been behaving very badly to the woman, threatening her if she didn't do what he wanted. Aramis still felt bad that he killed him, but hadn't had much choice in the matter.

Now, he was at the mercy of this man's brothers, who showed all the signs of being even worse than their little brother. If his brothers didn't find him soon, he would most likely lose his life, very slowly and painfully.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

D'Artagnan slowly came back to consciousness with a groan, lifting a hand to the back of his head. Athos stopped him, saying, "Probably better not to touch it just yet." As d'Artagnan became more fully conscious, he started up, saying, "Aramis!", before falling back on the bed.

Athos and Porthos both leaned towards him, with Athos asking, "Easy does it. Can you tell us what happened?"

D'Artagnan said, "A good guard I was. I never knew what hit me. When I woke up, I was sitting in a chair in here, and these men were tying Aramis up."

"Did they say anything you can remember that might help us to locate Aramis?", Porthos asked.

D'Artagnan frowned, trying to remember past the pounding in his head. "Yes. The leader, at least he behaved like he was the leader, did quite a bit of talking, which surprised me."

"What did he say?"

D'Artagnan said in a curious voice, "He talked about you, Athos. He recognized you coming and going from Aramis' room, and said that he knew you. He said your family's land and his were next to each other, and that he never liked you because you thought you were better than him."

As he said this, Athos' face grew more grim, as he now knew who had taken Aramis. "Go on."

"He said he could tell Aramis meant a lot to you, and that he would take care of both of you. When Aramis disappeared, it would kill you inside," d'Artagnan faltered then, grief over Aramis' kidnapping overcoming him.

"I know who it is, and where he and his brothers live. They are of the Courtain family, villains and scoundrels masquerading as nobility. All five brothers seem to have inherited their father's foul ways. He was a womanizer, a domineering man who enjoyed brutalizing those who worked his lands or who came across his path. His sons are made of the same mold. I do know where they live. We do not know if that is where Aramis is being held, but it is a start.

We need to find Aramis as quickly as possible. Albert and his brothers have a nasty streak of cruelty. They used to enjoy beating the men under them. They couldn't keep their hands off the women. And there were incidences of tortured animals and birds found on their property over the years. Right now, they have someone helpless in their power, and I shudder to think what he might be enduring. Let us depart as quickly as possible, brothers. It's a fairly long ride, and we need to find Aramis as quickly as we can."


	13. Chapter 14

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis had just had an unexpected visit from Albert and one of his brothers, who had not shown themselves for many hours. They had come through the door staring daggers at him, coming across the cellar and dragging him to his feet.

"My brothers have conviinced me that we are letting you off too easily, Musketeer," Albert sneered at the defenseless Aramis.

Aramis grew very uneasy hearing these words. What were they planning now? He found out almost in the next breath.

Albert's brother gripped Aramis' arms, as Albert began hitting him: his face, his stomach, anywhere he could reach. Aramis was helpless to do anything about it.

He tried to ask them why they hated him so much, but Albert gave the only answer he ever gave when Aramis tried to speak to him, stuffing his handkerchief in his mouth.

"I do not want to hear you, Musketeer. Every time I do, I remember what you did to my brother. It would be better for you if you kept silent, and didn't provoke me with your lies."

He continued to slam his fist into Aramis' body for a few more minutes, then abruptly halted.

They then dropped Aramis on the floor and headed for the door. Albert spoke over his shoulder as he went out, "Tomorrow should be more a lot more interesting than today. We have a game we are going to play with you." On that ominous note, they slammed and locked the door behind them.

He ached all over. Albert had a hard fist. Aramis was very much afraid the almost-healed stitches had broken open. The ribs that were mostly healed were now aching fiercely once more, too. He knew he had a very bruised face and a black eye. They had left the handkerchief in his mouth, and it made him even more thirsty than before, if that was possible. But what worried him was Albert's parting remark. From the look on his face as he was punching him, Albert seemed to be one of those people who enjoyed inflicting pain, getting some kind of perverse pleasure in it. What game? He decided he didn't really want to know, but that he wouldn't have a choice in the matter.

He tried to get some sleep, but his stomach kept rumbling, and his body was once more in a lot of pain. He despaired of a way out of his nightmare.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan left the garrison as soon as their horses were saddled, and provisions collected from the kitchen. They rode hard, without speaking for the most part, overwhelming concern for what might be happening to their brother overriding any weariness on their part. None of them wanted to stop to eat or rest along the way, just to get to their destination as soon as possible.

The rode for several hours before coming to the small village near Athos' estate. They dismounted, needing to give the horses a small breather and thinking to ask at the tavern if anyone had seen Albert and his brothers in the area, before riding to their property.

As they entered the small tavern, they noticed 10-12 men around tables with drinks. They all stopped to look at them as they came through the door, with looks of apprehension and suspicion on their faces. The barkeeper and barmaids had faces full of suspicion, as well. Why would they regard people they had never seen before in that way?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis passed a very restless night, both mentally and physically exhausted, and aching from both the beating and the cramped position he continued to be in.

He had not been awake for very long when the sound of the door being unlocked drew his attention. In came Albert and his three brothers carrying a set of shackles. Aramis tensed, not knowing what to expect from them, but not suspecting any good whatever.

Two of Albert's brothers yanked him to his feet, and held him in place. Another brother circled around him to his back, and Aramis felt a sharp blade pressed against his throat.

Albert got in his face, saying, "You will remain perfectly still while we untie you, or we can just slit your throat now."

Aramis remained very still as this was done, then Albert said, "Hold out your hands."

When he was slow in doing so because his arms were numb, they were pulled roughly in front of him and held there, as Albert locked a set of very tight shackles around his wrists, linked together by a few inches of chain. He then locked a longer length of chain around Aramis' waist, to which he attached the shackles. Then he was released, and the knife removed.

He was shoved forward, but stumbled, nearly falling, as his legs were also numb from not having moved in so long. They grabbed his arms and dragged him up the steps and out the door. The sunlight, after so long in the dark, caused Aramis' eyes to water and blink rapidly against the glare. He was set on his feet, and surrounded by the brothers. He saw various weapons laying in a heap on the ground near them, and wondered what in the world was going to happen.

Albert was in his face again, practically grinning with anticipation. Of what?

"We are going to have a hunt today, Musketeers. Guess who will be our quarry? We are going to give you an hour's head start, and then we will have our enjoyment. We don't really expect you to last very long. I can see that wound of yours beginning to bleed again, and the beating yesterday didn't do you any good, either, did it? We don't care. Our main purpose is to put an end to you, and this way, we get some fun in the process.

I saw you looking at the pile of weapons. You can guess which ones we will use on you when you are caught. Get going, and try not to trip over your feet running from us. We would like to have at least a little sport before you die."

He was shoved on his way, stumbling forward as his feet tried to move again. Looking ahead of him, he saw open farmland, and in the distance, a stand of trees. He began slowly and laboriously making for the trees, hoping against hope that he could find a place to hide out from his obviously slightly deranged tormentors.

It was hard moving. He was unable to use his arms for balance, being tethered to his waist as they were. He had no assurance that they would give him the hour they mentioned, either.


	14. Chapter 15

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxz

Constance had learned her lesson well. Her friend, the Queen, did not want things kept from her, especially not anything regarding Aramis. So, Constance requested to speak to Anne after d'Artagnan and his friends left the garrison to rescue him.

Her heart ached for the Queen who had been so kind to befriend her. She could never, in any way, let on that her heart belonged to the handsome, charming Musketeer. Constance knew what love was, and understood that there wasn't anything Anne could do to not fall in love with him. It wasn't something that was a conscious decision, but a feeling of the heart that overwhelms the person.

As she came into the Queen's apartments, she knew this was not going to be an easy talk. Anne rose and came to take her hands as soon as she entered. Her face must have given her away, though, because Anne immediately asked her, "What is wrong, Constance? Is it d'Artagnan? Is he all right?"

Constance shook her head, "No, he is well. Anne, it's Aramis. The men who attacked him so horribly before have taken him. They left d'Artagnan unconscious in Aramis' room. D'Artagnan and the others have just ridden out to find him."

The Queen's face went dreadfully pale at this news. Her hands tightened around Constance's, who could feel her trembling. She was badly shaken by the news, and after what these men had done to Aramis before, she was terribly afraid for him now. It also made it all the harder that she was supposed to act like things were all normal, that the man she loved with all her heart could already be ... She couldn't even finish her thought. He couldn't be, she would know. She didn't know how, but she was sure she would sense if he was no longer... And again,she couldn't finish the dreadful thought. He would be all right. He had to be.

Some time later, after Constance had departed her apartments, Anne knelt on her prie-dieu to pray for the safety of her beloved Musketeer, and for his friends to find him and return with him in safety. The tears silently accompanied her prayers, the tears no one could ever be allowed to see.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert and his brothers no sooner had sent their victim on his way when one of the men who worked for Albert came running from the direction of the village, stopping in front of him out of breath.

"My lord, you asked us to keep an eye out for anyone asking about you. There are Musketeers at the tavern asking questions."

Albert, whose face simmered with his anger and frustration at being interrrupted in his plan, turned to his brothers and said, "We need to get that Musketeer back here immediately. They can't find him here."

Since they had just released Aramis, it was very easy to catch up with him. His brothers were just as frustrated and boiling with anger that they weren't going to have the pleasure they had been looking forward to . They took it out on Aramis by slamming him to the ground when they reached him.

Albert said, "We do not know how fast they are going to get here. We need to get him back in the cellar fast. Take the shackles off, and get his hands behind him again. Gag him tightly. We do not want him making any sound that will attract their attention."

The wind had been knocked out of Aramis when he hit the ground. Even so, what he had heard had given him a slight hope, enough for him to try feebly to fight back.

"Lay still, Musketeer. No one is going to find you. You're a dead man."

A foot was planted on his chest while the shackles were removed, then he was turned over and his hands once more tied behind his back, and then a rope was also tied from his hands to the chain around his waist to keep his hands in place. He felt someone grab his hair and yank his head back. Then, a very tight gag was tied in his mouth, and he was lifted and carried back and down into the cellar once more. They threw him to the ground, and in frustration over having had their entertainment taken away, savagely kicked him in the side and left him.

Aramis clung to the thought that what he had heard meant his friends were nearby. But would they be able to find him in this out of the way underground prison, he thought, before losing consciousness from the brutality he had suffered from his captors.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan left the tavern frustrated. They were given no answers to their inquiries, everyone just looking blank-faced at them. Athos had the feeling they were all afraid to speak up, for fear of reprisals from the men they were hunting.

They headed for Albert's property, determined to search every inch of it, and have a little talk with the brothers, as well.

When they reached the estate, Athos halted for a few moments to confer with his comrades. "We need to be very careful, my friends. I was serious when I was telling you about these brothers. They are highly dangerous, and particularly ruthless. Many people in this area have had very unpleasant and violent run-ins with them over the years. If we encounter any of them, let me do the talking."

Heading for the house, they dismounted. Before they were even up the steps, the door opened and Albert emerged with one of his brothers at his side.

"Well, if it isn't Athos! Thought you departed from this area years ago, my lord," giving the title a sneer as he said it.

Usually, Athos told anyone who used his former title that it did not apply to him any more. Not this time. He would use any and all resources at his disposal to find his beloved brother.

"We are looking for a missing comrade, and have reason to believe he might be on your lands. We are prepared to search whether given permission or not. We are King's Musketeers, and it would be wise to cooparate with us, Albert."

He did not use the courtesy title that Albert, and his father before him, insisted that everyone in the village and on his lands use in his presence. Athos was well aware that Albert's father had acquired the position of untitled nobility for his service in the military, and that Albert had no right to any title at all. There were many untitled nobility in France, and quite a few of them tried to increase their prestige by illegally adopting a title.

As much as it pained him, Albert acquieced to the request with an ill grace, waving his arm in a wide arc. "You are free to look wherever you please. I have nothing to hide, Musketeer. Use your vaunted authority all you want. I am not impressed." With that, he turned on his heel and headed back inside, slamming the door behind him, almost hitting his brother who had followed him.

Athos and his brothers mounted again and began searching, staying together, as they didn't trust splitting up after the unveiled hostility they had just witnessed.

 _Prie-dieu = pray to God A kneeling bench with space above for a book or the elbows, for use by a person at prayer._

 _Untitled nobility = some men received untitled nobility, consisting of lands, not title, by virtue of the office they held. It could be conferred either immediately or after a determined number of years. Some of the offices were municipal, judicial, fiscal, administrative or military. It could also be conferred by the King, by royal grants The only nobility with actual titles were the hereditary nobility, born to it and descended in the family often for centuries. Untitled nobility had no rights given to be called by a title (duke, count, marquis,etc.), but often adopted a title anyway, which was illegal. They often got away with this anyway._


	15. Chapter 16

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis lay in darkness in the cellar with no rescue in sight. Had his brothers come and gone already? Had Albert attacked them when they had arrived? Or had they searched and decided he couldn't be here? His mind vacillated between thinking they were still looking, and despairing that they had given up and left.

He began furiously trying once more to free his hands, but if anything, the ropes were tighter than they had been before. He was unable to even move along the ground, as with his hands also tethered to his waist, it made any movement virtually impossible as he couldn't use his elbows as leverage to maneuvre himself. He had no way to alert his brothers, if they were still searching for him.

Tears born of frustration filled his eyes. They might still be in the area, even very close, but without a way to let them know he was there, he would be left to perish at Albert's hands. All his various injuries were making themselves increasingly known, and he moaned silently with the pain that throbbed in his body.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos and his comrades searched fruitlessly for hours, going through every inch of Albert's estate. They encountered curious looks from some of the peasants who lived and worked the land, but none approached them. They feared the reprisals that would be visited upon them if they spoke to the Musketeers.

As they rode, Athos had one of those uncanny feelings that he and his brothers sometimes experienced when one of them was hurt or missing. Looking over at Porthos, he encountered a look that told him Porthos was feeling the same way. But they didn't know where else to look. The clearing they were in was devoid of any building, even the trees were hewn, leaving only stumps here and there. There would be nowhere Albert could hide Aramis, so why did he and Porthos get such a strong feeling?

Then, they saw Albert and one of his brothers approaching on horseback. Albert defiantly told them, "I have been very cooperative with you, Musketeers. But you have searched most of the day, and found nothing. The King will hear that I graciously allowed you the whole day to go anywhere on this land that you wanted. I will ask you politely one time to leave now. This has been an intrusion I did not relish, and it is now over. If you come back, my men will forcibly escort you off my land." With that, they sat on their mounts waiting for the Musketeers to leave.

Athos knew he had no choice in the matter. They had been given almost carte blanche to search, and come up with nothing, not a clue to Aramis' whereabouts. But he also knew to a certainty that Aramis was on the property somewhere. Even without the intuitive feeling he and Porthos had, the fact that Albert had allowed them to search without much of a protest spoke volumes to him.

He slowly turned his horse, indicating to a very reluctant Porthos and d'Artagnan to do so also. As soon, as they were out of earshot, he said, "We had no choice but to leave right now. Courtain could have had us legally thrown off his land. But we are not through here. We will be back. It will have to be in a more, unannounced way, though, after sending Treville a message."

They left the estate in very somber moods, heading back to the inn for the night. They knew they were leaving Aramis there, and it didn't sit well with them at all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert and his brothers had a long talk that night about what to do about Aramis. They were still upset over their enforced change of plan for that day. The hunt was obviously out of the question now. Even if the Musketeers went back to Paris, too many people in the village were aware of the missing Musketeer now, and could very well see something and report it to keep out of trouble with the King's Musketeers.

Albert had a new idea. It wasn't as hands on as the origial plan, as they wouldn't be able to hunt him down and kill him in a thrilling chase, but it would work very well.

"We will implement it in the morning. We want to see him suffer as much as possible for taking our youngest from us, and this will do very well. I am sure he will not die easily or quickly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis felt like his last hope had gone that night. No one was coming for him. He was going to die alone in this dark cellar. No one knew where he was or ever would. His brothers would be inconsolable if they found out he had been here while they were searching, and they never found him. He worried for how they would live with it, as he knew his brothers as well as they knew him.

His body was so cramped and throbbing with pain. He was the medic, but he couldn't move to do anything whatever to help himself. The bullet wound had stopped bleeding by some miracle, which was a good thing, but it was still open to the elements and lying on the dirt floor wouldn't be good to keep it clean and infection-free.

But what was the use? He was going to die here, so it didn't really matter if it healed or not. Again, as before, the tears came unbidden, as the horror of his situation overwhelmed him. HIs only hope was prayer, and in the utter silence of his prison, he turned to his one refuge, the familiar words running silently through his head.


	16. Chapter 17

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert and his brothers unlocked the trap door, and filed down the ladder. They came and stood over Aramis, a gloating look added to the hate in their faces this morning. Aramis wearily looked up into the faces ringing around him.

Albert, always the only one to speak, said, "We will not be able to have the hunt that we planned. We do not want watching eyes to see what happens to you, so your death will come in this very cellar you are presently in. It is a variation on the end we tried to give you the last time we had you in our hands. Unfortunately, that time your friends found you before justice was done. This time, they will have no clue where you are. Even if they were to find and stand in this cellar, they will leave without ever knowing you were here. We have also varied the circumstances a bit. It will be a slow and painful end, that unfortunately, we will not be able to witness. "

Moving in even closer, Albert yanked the crucifix from Aramis' neck and threw it to the ground, saying, "This will not help you, either."

Aramis was grabbed and set on his feet. His hands were unbound, only to be pulled out in front of him and retied just as brutally tight. Then, he was taken to the far wall of the cellar, where a rope was thrown over the beam of the ceiling. Aramis panicked, realizing they intended to leave him hanging from the rafters as they had done once before from a tree. That time, his comrades had found and cut him down, but this time? They had already gone, believing him to be elsewhere.

The other end of the rope was tied to his wrists. Albert moved in close to his face, "How long do you think you can last, Musketeer? Your body has had no food or water, and very little sleep for 3 days now. You will find that with your mouth sealed like that and hanging in the position you are, it will be much more difficult to breathe easily. But we have one last thing to do before we leave you."

While the others left, and Albert just stood silently staring at Aramis, who shivered involuntarily at the loathing he revealed in his eyes. His brothers returned carrying wood planks, hammers, nails and a pail. Aramis paled even more when he saw these, having a feeling of what they were going to do with them, even though he hoped against hope he was wrong.

In silence, they began nailing planks across the room, one on top of the other, sealing them in place. When they had sealed from one wall to the other the space Aramis was in to within a foot from the ceiling, Albert spoke one last time, calling out from the other side of the wall separating them.

"Once the last wood plank is sealed in place, your doom is sealed, as well. We will then leave, and will bolt the trap door above, as usual. We will also cover it with debris, so anyone searching will ride right by. Even if, by some chance, searchers were to come down here, they would never find you behind that wall, as you will be unable to call out to them. Justice has finally been served!"

He heard them leave, and the trap door slam. He was left hanging behind a concealing wall, his last hope slowly fading away in the darkness of his coming tomb.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos had heard nothing back from the message he had sent to Treville via one of the village men commandeered to ride to Paris for them. He and his brothers were almost uncharacteristically frantic at the delay and possible repercussions being visited upon Aramis by their enforced inability to move against Albert.

They had waited over a day, and heard nothing. Athos finally made a decision, and told Porthos and d'Artagnan, "I am going back to search again, regardless of the legality of the situation. I cannot tell you to come with me, but..."

Porthos didn't let him go any further. "Try to stop us from coming with you. That's our brother that's missing. We've waited too long already. Let's go, law or no law. A pauldron is worth nothing if we consider it more important than our brother. Aramis is our friend, and we won't leave him while the law stews!"

They saddled up, and galloped out of the inn stable yard, fear driving them that they had waited too long already. It had already been three days since Aramis had been taken, and they were afraid it might already be too late.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis hung by his wrists all through the night. As Albert had predicted, his breathing worsened. The position he was hanging from with his hands high above his head caused breathing to become more difficult, and the gag they had left in place made matters even worse, his breath coming in short fast gasps. HIs wrists, already torn and raw from previous attempts to free himself, now screamed in pain from hanging down on them.

He also had not eaten or had any liquids for almost 3 days. The circumstances were conspiring to bring things to his end. He was unable to change any of them. All he was able to do was await the outcome, helpless to do anything further.

Aramis once again began to pray, the only solace left to him. At least, he knew in his heart he was not totally alone. This time, he found himself praying the prayers of the dying. His heart realized this would be his tomb, his final resting place, and he was beginning to prepare his soul for it as best he could.

Once again, as before when he had thought he wouldn't make it, he brought to mind the people he loved most, saying his goodbyes. "I love you, Anne. My son. My brothers. We will meet again one day. I have been so blessed to have each of you in my life. Lord, into Your hands I commend my spirit."

His body slowly lost consciousness, hanging helplessly from the rope that kept him in place.


	17. Chapter 18

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan flew down the road, unable to get to their destination soon enough. Once they were finally there, Athos and Porthos looked at each other and nodded. They would return to the place where they had felt such an overwhelming sensation of Aramis' presence. There had been no building or hiding place that they could see, but there had to be a reason for that intuitive feeling. As they moved onwards in enemy territory now, their hands kept close to their pistols and swords, alert for any sign of their enemy. It was almost eerily quiet, with no sign of Albert and company, for which they were very thankful.

When they reached the large clearing, they dismounted slowly, not knowing yet where in this area he could possibly be.

It was then that they saw a young boy coming out fearfully from the nearby trees, staring at them as he approached.

Athos saw him and slowly approached the boy. "Can we help you?', he asked, not letting himself dare to hope the boy might want to tell them something helpful to their search.

The boy hesitated now that he had approached them. They seemed so big, and they had weapons all over them. He was suddenly afraid.

Athos spoke again to him, in a soft voice. "We will not hurt you, I promise. We are looking for someone we love very much, like you love your mama and your papa, your brothers and sisters. He might be hurt, and we need to find him. Have you seen a stranger anywhere around here?"

The little boy hesitated again, then slowly nodded his head. Athos was so elated by this, but proceeded cautiously, speaking calmly and quietly to the boy. "Could you show us where you saw him?"

The boy had such a look of fear on his face, Athos was suddenly afraid he would turn and run, for fear of reprisals to him or his family. He said, "We are the King's Musketeers. We will not let any harm come to you or your family. Would you please help us to find our friend?"

The little boy stepped forward and grabbed Athos by the hand. He let himself be led by the small boy towards the far end of the clearing, with Porthos and d'Artagnan silently following close behind them.

When the boy came to the middle of the clearing, he pointed at the ground. Athos stared where the boy pointed, and at first saw nothing. His heart plummeted. But then, he saw something wooden half-hidden by dirt and debris, obviously dragged there to disguise it. Scarcely daring to hope that their search was about over, he leaned down and swiped the mess away, revealing a locked trap door.

Porthos, who had come up behind them, wordlessly leaned down with his main gauche and slammed into the lock twice, breaking it in two. He lifted the door, and Athos began tp climb down the ladder that had been revealed. It was pitch black in the cellar, and difficult to see anything. He softly called Aramis' name as he went, with Porthos and d'Artagnan climbing down behind him. D'Artagnan had thought to bring a lantern with them this time, in case they continued searching into the night. He lit it on the way down.

When they reached the bottom, their eyes flew to every corner of the cellar, which they found to be completely empty. Devastated, they looked at each other, crestfallen.

Athos was silent a moment, then said, "That boy was very sure someone was here. Could there be any hidden doors or tunnels in here, you suppose? Let's at least look."

Then, as Porthos happened to look down, he saw something shining in the gloom of the cellar. Bending down, he picked it up, exclaiming, "Look! It's Aramis' crucifix, the one the Queen gave him! It looks like it was torn from his neck. He's got to be here. Keep looking!"

They started to look, when d'Artagnan stopped, then spoke up. "Look! All the other walls are made of stone. Why is that wall made of wooden planks. You don't suppose..."

By the end of his words, they were running to the makeshift wall. Feeling around, Porthos said, "The mortar in between these planks isn't even dry yet!", then began using his tremendous strength to pry one of the boards loose. After that, they all yanked together on the next two, and Athos peered inside.

What he saw froze him in his tracks. "Oh, please, no!, " he cried. "Quickly, let us get these boards out of here. He is there-our brother is sealed in there!"

It was short work for them to pull the remaining boards away, and when they had, they paused in complete shock, as their beloved friend was revealed hanging from the ceiling, mute, bloody, half-naked and unconscious. Athos swore at the sight, as Porthos cut through the rope suspending him, and Athos and d'Artagnan gently lowered his limp form to the ground.

D'Artagnan fearfully said, "Is he...", but couldn't voice the words.

Athos felt for a pulse, and let out a huge sigh when he found one. "He is alive. Our brother is still alive!" He seemed to remember saying something similar fairly recently. He took his main gauche and carefully sliced through the gag so cruelly tied around Aramis' mouth, obviously to keep him from letting anyone know he was there. Porthos was cutting through the ropes binding his hands and feet, and then their brother was free, at last.

Athos was observing Aramis, and said, "He is having trouble getting enough air to breathe. The gag, the position he was hanging from for we don't know how long, the wood planks creating a too closed in atmosphere. We need to get him outside-now!"

Porthos gently lifted Aramis into his arms, protectively holding him close. He was so still and pale, Porthos was suddenly afraid he might yet not survive his ordeal, and hugged him, whispering, "Don't you die on us now, Aramis. We nearly lost you, and we will keep you safe now. Just hang on, brother."

Athos and d'Artagnan went up the ladder and outside first, pistols and swords drawn. But no one was there except the little boy, who was staring at Aramis. Porthos spoke to him, "Hey, lad, would you like to come see our friend?" When the boy approached and gingerly reached up to touch Aramis' arm, Porthos encouraged him, saying, "You saved our friend's life. You are a hero. We will never forget what you did." The boy suddenly broke into a huge smile. "When Aramis is better, we will all come to visit you, and we will bring you a surprise." If possible, the smile grew even wider.

Athos told him, "We are in your debt, young man. We thank you! Run home now. Don't tell anyone we were here. More Musketeers will come soon to arrest the Courtains. If you have any trouble, run to the village and tell them to send for us. All right?"

The little boy bobbed his head and took off. Then he paused, returning to say, "You gotta feed him. They was saying they was going to starve him." Athos thanked him and sent him on his way. No one was around to see him go, for which Athos was profoundly grateful.

They laid him gently down on the ground, hoping the fresh air would fill his lungs as he now gasped for air. They all were touching some part of him, so afraid that they could lose him even after they had finally found him. They kept watch silently, giving him time to be able to breathe easier again.

They all had tears in their eyes, watching Aramis struggling so hard. Athos looked at Porthos and d'Artagnan, and in a low growl, said, "We will take care of Aramis first, and then, we are going to destroy these men!"

Aramis gradually began to gasp less, although his breathing was by no means easy yet. He was still unconscious. Athos thought they had to take the chance to move him, as the longer they were on Albert's land, the greater the chance that they would be seen.

Athos and d'Artagnan lifted Aramis. Porthos mounted first, so that he could receive their precious burden before him in the saddle, hugging him gently against his body. Then, after the others mounted, they left the area swiftly and silently, starting home with their brother at last.

They would come back and deal with his kidnappers and would-be murderers as soon as Aramis was out of danger.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert and his brothers slept long in the morning. They waited until almost midday to return to their prisoner, thinking he was probably dead by now. They were furious when they reached the cellar and saw the wood planks torn down, and their victim missing.

Albert growled, "Saddle up! We have some Musketeers to hunt down!"


	18. Chapter 19

Sorry to be so late posting this newest chapter. I was at the hospital undergoing surgery, then a little recuperation. Thanks for the many wonderful reviews, and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Musketeers had needed to detour out of a straight road to Paris, as their pursuers could possibly circle around and waylay them. They would have welcomed the ensuing fight if that happened, but not when it could risk Aramis' being in the middle of it.

Athos finally called a halt to their journey after a couple of hours. They needed to let Aramis rest. Being on horseback was obviously causing him more pain. They found an out of the way copse of trees, which kept them hidden from the road. D'Artagnan went back to the road to sweep away their tracks, while Athos and Porthos got Aramis settled on a mound of blankets, preparatory to taking care of his injuries. He had not regained consciousness during their flight, and his breathing was still not normal, but raspy and uneven. He lay so still and was white as a sheet.

They were also scanning his body to see what else Albert might have done. They saw the musket wound broken open and dirty from the ground of the cellar; the nasty bruises on his face and torso, obviously caused by beatings; wrists torn and bloody from trying to get himself free; bruises where his ribs were, probably reinjured from his earlier encounter with Albert and more recently from being beaten; the large bruise on his forehead, possibly from the butt of a pistol or musket, and all kinds of scratches and scrapes over his torso, as if he had been dragged. If there was anything internally, they couldn't tell.

Athos got their medical supplies out, and set to work cleaning and once more stitching closed the musket wound. He hoped he had cleaned out the dirt that had been lodged inside, as it could cause infection otherwise. It looked pretty clean to him when he was finished. Next, they wound strips torn from Athos' spare shirt around the bruised and broken ribs, then cleaned and wrapped his wrists. Athos cleaned the mess Albert had made of Aramis' face, but lacked poultices or herbs to put on any of the injuries. They also had nothing for pain, or to help him to sleep later after he regained consciousness.

Aramis needed some sustenance, both food and water. They tried giving him some water, and he swallowed a little of it, while the rest trickled out of the corners of his mouth. It always had amazed Athos to see how an unconscious person would still take in water given them. He needed far more liquids, as he was dehydrated, but they would need to try giving him small amounts at a time for now. Food would have to wait until he had awakened. They wondered how long he had been without both, and unfortunately realized probably the entire time he had been held captive. They were very fortunate to have found him when they did, as one usually did not survive over three days without water. Someone could go longer without food, but the body would constantly send reminders that it nourishment.

They were almost finished when Aramis began restlessly moving his head from side to side. In a raspy voice no louder than a faint whisper, he cried out, "Please...no. What did...No, please!" obviously begging his captors to stop hurting him. He was frantic, trying ineffectually to pull away from them. They tried to calm him down, gently rubbing his arms, stroking his hair. They were afraid he would hurt himself further with his movements. Suddenly, he shuddered, and his body stilled, causing them to panic. Feeling for a pulse, Athos took a deep breath. "He is still with us. He has gone through a frightful ordeal, and obviously, his mind is reliving it." Unspoken in their thoughts was that this was the second time his mind was reliving horrendous torment from Albert's family. Athos was silent for a few moments before saying, "No one should have to go through the torment that Aramis has. They will come not come hear him again while I live. We are going to personally obtain vengeance for our brother. The Courtains will pay dearly for what they have done."

Porthos and d'Artagnan seconded his comment. None of them could countenance someone being put through what Aramis obviously had undergone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis spent a very restless night. He was very obviously in a lot of pain. He was also being visited by more nightmares of his ordeal. His brothers sat near him, running fingers gently through his hair, lightly stroking his hand or shoulder to let him know they were there. As during the first time he had been attacked, none of them wanted to take turns staying with him. They all sat up through the night in a silent vigil, softly telling him he was safe now, they would not let anyone hurt him again when he became restless, until he would gradually become still again.

At one time during the night, he began praying the prayer for the dying, and his comrades' hearts nearly broke. In his unconscious torment, he thought he wasn't going to make it out alive, and was reconciling himself to God in the ancient prayer of the Church. Once again, they looked across at each other with tears in their eyes.

They all, as one, leaned silently over him, saying, "You are safe now, Aramis. We are here for you," but didn't know if the words could penetrate his mind at the moment

When they tried to give him water, he was able to swallow only small amounts. He did not regain consciousness. He was now totally still and pale, and his breathing was still very ragged. They wondered how long he had hung from that rope before they had found him, and if his lungs could possibly have been damaged.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

D'Artagnan arose before the others next morning, and rode back a little of the road they had traveled, to see if anyone was following them. What he saw made him gallop back to their camp in a hurry.

Athos and Porthos were just getting up. D'Artagnan flew into the camp, saying, "We need to take a detour from the main road. Albert is camped not far away on the road we came from. We need to move quickly!"

They doused the campfire, and saddled the horses. Porthos went to Aramis and gently tapped his good shoulder, saying, "Hey, sleepyhead, we need to leave now."

Aramis mumbled, but didn't wake or move. Porthos reached down and lifted him, blanket and all, giving him to Athos and d'Artagnan while he mounted his horse. Then, he was gently lifted up in front of Porthos, who settled the blanket more snugly around his friend, and they left the camp, veering to the left across country, instead of continuing to follow the road that led back to Paris, in order to throw their pursuers off.

D'Artagan was their self-appointed scout, and left from time to time to check back the way they had come to make sure trouble wasn't following them yet. So far,so good, he thought, making his way back to his comrades.

After an hour, Athos took Aramis up in front of him, to give Porthos' horse a breather. A short while later, Aramis began to be a little restless, speaking barely above a whisper in an anguished voice, "I am so sorry, Anne, to leave you alone to raise our son." Athos quickly turned his head to see if his comrades had heard this, but was reassured when they seemed oblivious to hearing anything.

Athos leaned close and softly spoke, "Aramis, dear brother, we will get you to a doctor. You are safe," but Aramis couldn't hear him.

Aramis once more whispered, "I love you... and our s..son. And... I love you, my brothers. Do not grieve f..for me. We will s..see one another... in heaven." And once again, Athos was overcome with grief. Aramis obviously thought he was very close to dying. How could they get through to him that they wouldn't let that happen now?

They realized they needed to stop for a little while, when Aramis began to tremble violently around midday. Laying him down on the ground, they did a swift check of his injuries, and saw that the resewn musket wound was now a very angry red-purple color. Aramis also was developing a fever and was restless.

They looked worriedly at each other. They knew then that the wound had probably got dirt rubbed into it from the floor of the cellar. They quickly cleaned it as thoroughly as they could again, and rewrapped it.

Athos said, "Aramis needs medical attention soon. What he does not need is to come into contact with his tormentors again. We need to divert Albert and company. Porthos, you ride on towards Paris with Aramis. D'Artagnan and I will stop or at least slow them down in the meantime. If you make it back to Paris, have Treville send reinforcements."


	19. Chapter 20

I am so sorry to take this long to post the newest chapter. The eyes have been too blurry to do decent work. But I am back now. I hope you enjoy it!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Treville had asked to speak with the King, and explained to him how one of his untitled lords had ambushed and nearly killed one of his Musketeers, and had now kidnapped him right out of the garrison. The King was outraged, promising that the Courtains would be caught and punished. Then, Rochefort began whispering in his ear. The King listened, as he always seemed to do when Rochefort gave him advice.

He turned to Treville, saying, "We do need to be careful of stepping on the toes of those who are our supporters among the landed lords. He will have a fair trial, and hopefully, you will get our Musketeer back alive to testify."

Rochefort was standing to the side and slightly in back of the King,smirking so that only Treville could see. The Captain was seething inside, but knew not to push it at that moment when Rochefort had the King's ear. He would make sure he spoke with the King again when Rochefort was away from the palace, and soon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Porthos had been riding for about 40 minutes,when Aramis became restless once again. He was in the grip of the fever from the infection. "Why... Please don't..." It was heartbreaking to hear him try to speak to his captors, only to obviously be forcibly stopped.

Then, he stopped, becoming very still. Porthos brought his horse to a sudden stop, scared that the fever may have taken his friend's life. Instead, he looked down at him, and discovered glassy, pain-filled eyes looking back up at him. He was overjoyed. He had been so afraid he would never see those eyes open again.

"Aramis, it's Porthos. Can you hear me, brother?"

Aramis frowned and closed his eyes, reopening them moments later. He gave a very slight nod.

Porthos grinned, saying, "We are almost back to Paris, mon ami. Treville will get Dr. Lemay for you. Just hang on, all right?"

Aramis look so bone weary and pale. He nodded slightly again, and then his head slipped off to the side, once more unconscious. The tremors throughout his body had still not let up. But he had awakened, if only for a moment, and he had recognized him. Porthos would take every little positive moment he could get right now, hurrying his horse the last leg of their journey.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert pulled up short, almost causing one of his brothers to plow his horse right into him. "The trail just stopped!"

One of the others said, "Obviously, they know we are coming after them, and are covering their trail. But they can't conceal the whole thing, so we should just ride on til we find it again."

Albert, frustrated, directed his pent-up temper against this,saying, "We are not dealing with some local magistrate's men. These are King's Musketeers. They are the best of the best, much as it pains me to admit that much, especially since Athos is one of them. They will use every trick to impede us, even though our numbers greatly outnumber them, so they can get that murderer to freedom. When we catch them, I will take great delight in bringing Athos down a notch or two, legal or not!," and spurred his horse viciously in his haste to pick up the trail again somewhere ahead. His brothers, and the hired men with them, urged their horses on to keep up with him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

D'Artagnan and Athos stood beside their horses on the top of a nearby hill, observing the riders who had been on their trail. They kept out of sight behind a couple of massive elm trees. Athos, even at this distance and having not seen Albert for years, recognized him instantly. His lip curled as he saw him gouge his horse. The man still had the same cruel streak in him. The thought of Aramis in this man's hands for as long as he had been sickened him.

D'Artagnan leaned over and said, "I don't suppose they are going to like what they are going to encounter shortly. But they deserve far worse. And if we can reduce their numbers, it might just reduce their confidence,as well."

They waited in silence for their pursuers to reach the little surprise they had prepared for them.

A few moments later, there was a complete mess on the road, as several riders had toppled to the ground, causing a pile-up when the horses directly behind them ran straight into them.

Albert spotted the thick rope that had been wound around opposing trees at either side of the road. D'Artagnan, hidden a little ways up the hill on the right side, had given a sharp yank at the last moment to the end of the rope he had in his hand, and took off immediately. The horses in front had gone down, and their riders had flown over their heads. The riders immediately behind them had plowed right into the ones ahead,causing a huge mess. There was such a confusing scene, no one thought to keep an eye out for the culprit, which Albert was at pains to tell them, once the matter had calmed down a little.

"If you had been alert, you might have seen a Musketeer or two create this disaster," he fumed. "And I am sure it won't be the only attempt made today. So wake up," he thundered. "I am not paying you to sleep in your saddles. You are supposed to be competent and able to do your jobs, and this is not inspiring confidence in me to allot you any pay. So get back in your saddles, and let's ride!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Porthos had never been so glad to see Paris. Aramis had not awakened again, and his skin was burning up when touched. He had lapsed back into delirium, once again praying, "Into your hands, Lord,..." Hearing this, Porthos heart clenched, and he urged his horse faster towards the garrison.

When he rode into the garrison, he yelled, "Captain!," at the top of his lungs. Treville came out of his office onto the landing. Taking one look, he came down the steps in a rush, arriving at Porthos's side as he came to a halt.

"How is he?", Treville asked, never taking his eyes off the unconscious form of Aramis cradled in Porthos' arms.

"Really bad, Captain. He thinks he's not going to make it. He's been praying the prayer for the dying since we found him this morning. He's burning up with fever, we think because the musket wound broke open while he was captive, and the dirt on the floor may have got in it."

Porthos was telling him this while he was gently lifting Aramis down to the waiting arms of Treville. Dismounting, Porthos led the way into the infirmary with Treville bringing the still form of Aramis behind him. Musketeers had come out from everywhere in silence, hushed at the sight of one of their own once again at death's door.

Treville gently laid Aramis down on one of the infirmary beds, then went to the door, where he shouted, "You, there! Yes, you! Get over to the palace and bring Dr. Lemay back with you. If you have any trouble finding him, ask for Constance Bonacieux. She will know where he can be found. And I want this done as quickly as possible!"

The man took off like he had a fire lit under him, running through the garrison gates. Treville and Porthos just hoped Dr. Lemay was found, and that he could save Aramis.


	20. Chapter 21

I am so sorry to leave all of you hanging for so long. The typing was not going well, as my eyes were just a wee bit blurry. But all is very well now. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Treville turned back to Aramis, Porthos told him, "You need to send some men to Athos and d'Artagnan, Captain. They stayed behind to hold the Courtains off til I could get Aramis to safety. They're outnumbered because Albert has hired men riding with them."

Treville listened in silence until Porthos finished, then went to the door, shouting, "Jean-Pierre, Tristan, take some men to assist Athos and d'Artagan in capturing a group of villains who have tried twice now to kill a King's Musketeer. Porthos will instruct you on how to find them. Quickly!"

Returning to Aramis' bedside, Treville laid his hand softly on Aramis' head, saying, "They have nearly killed him twice now. There will not be a third time on my watch," he vowed. Pausing, he said, "We can at least clean this wound and rebandage it until Lemay arrives. If it's infected, as you believe, the cleaner we keep it, the better chance he has."

Aramis shifted in pain and moaned as soon as they touched the blood-soaked strips wound around his torso. Exposed, the wound obviously looked infected. Treville and Porthos' eyes met, each thinking it looked really bad, but not wanting to say it aloud. Porthos silently reached for a clean cloth, soaked it in water and began cleaning it as gently as possible. But it was too inflamed to touch without causing agony to Aramis. Treville held him in place, wishing he didn't have to, but knowing it was absolutely necessary. After several moments, Aramis went still. Treville and Porthos froze, and the Captain checked his pulse. "He is just out again, Porthos." Porthos worked faster, hoping to have the wound rebandaged before Aramis woke up again.

His hopes were not to be realized, as Aramis came to again, just as Porthos finished the bandaging. His eyes started fluttering, and a moment later, they slowly opened, drowsy and pain-filled, looking into the worried eyes of Porthos.

Porthos broke out in a wide grin, saying, "It is so good to see those brown eyes of yours open, my friend."

Aramis looked confused at Porthos' words. Porthos just said, "Don't listen to me ramble, mon ami. We just need to get you better now."

Aramis looked hazily around, eventually seeing Treville on his other side. Still confused, he whispered, "C..Captain?"

"Yes, Aramis, it's me. You have given us a terrible scare. Dr. Lemay is on his way.

Just lay as still as possible."

They could tell the instant Aramis' mind began filling in the blanks. He slowly whispered, "They s..sealed m..me in l..l..like a t..tomb." His breathing was becoming erratic as his mind remembered the horror of being sealed alive in what his captors had hoped would be his tomb. His body had begun to shake, the living nightmare too much for his pain-drugged mind to comprehend. They tried to hold him still as gently as they could, but the tremors were still shaking him. Then, his body went still.

Porthos hurriedly put his fingers to Aramis' neck to check his pulse, then let out a deep breath. "He just passed out." He couldn't even put his fear of what he thought might have happened into words.

"We need to get these men, Captain. They have put Aramis through more than any man ought to have endured."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos and d'Artagnan led their pursuers a merry chase in the opposite direction as Porthos and Aramis had gone, then after a few miles, turned their horses in the general direction of Paris, having only an old dirt road available to reach it, as this was off the beaten track, and not used much. They planned on entering the city walls on the opposite side of Paris as their comrades when they got there, as per the instructions Athos had given Porthos. They just hoped Treville sent reinforcements before their pursuers caught up with them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Dr. Lemay arrived, Treville filled him in on what had happened. He asked Treville, "This is twice now. Why is he being attacked so viciously like this, Captain?" To which, Treville answered, "These men think he caused the death of one of his brothers. I know Aramis, and if he did indeed kill the man, there was a very good reason. Please help him, Doctor."

Lemay asked Porthos and Treville to leave, and when Porthos balked at being separated from his friend, insisted. Treville told Porthos he couldn't stay, maneuvered him out the door, which was not an easy thing to do when it was Porthos, then closed the door behind them. Porthos was fretting, not wanting to leave his friend for a moment, but Treville told him, "Porthos, you know how good a doctor Lemay is. But he needs peace and quiet to do his work. Let him help Aramis. If anyone can, it's going to be him."

Porthos nodded, but continued to stare at the closed door, as if he could make him come out sooner. After a few minutes, he began pacing up and down like a caged lion, impatient to find out how his beloved brother was faring.

An hour later, Lemay came out and closed the door. He said, " Aramis is in very bad shape, I am afraid. But I have used some poultices on the wound that is causing his infection, and if it clears up, he may come through this. You did right to clean the wound again, and rebandage it. The cleaner it stays, the better. I have once more rebandaged it, but you will need to change the poultices and bandages every few hours. His wrists are badly torn from friction from trying to free himself from them. I have put some salve on them, and bandaged them. The broken shoulder is traumatized from being hung up for so long, and the other shoulder had dislocated. I reset it, and since he was not conscious, he didn't suffer that pain. The broken ribs are tightly wrapped again.

He will need to be given pain draughts whenever he awakens. He also badly needs liquids, as he is severely dehydrated."

Porthos said, "I will not be leaving his side, Doctor, and I'll do everything you told us. Thanks for coming so fast. I'm sorry to give you such trouble."

Lemay replied, "I wish I could have a loyal friend like you if something ever happened to me, Porthos. It is a very admirable trait."

He then left, and Porthos and Treville stepped back inside the quiet room. Aramis was so pale and still, and their hearts ached to see him like this yet again.


	21. Chapter 22

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Athos and d'Artagnan were about half an hour outside Paris when they heard the thunder of multiple horses coming swiftly their way. They looked at each other, and Athos said, "We need to get off the road and find a shelter. They are too many for the two of us." He said this as he was heading down the grassy incline off the road. D'Artagnan made a quick attempt to cover their tracks with a branch, then quickly followed suit.

They had not gone too far when they spotted a farm in the distance. Heading for it, they decided on the barn near the edge of the pasture. Dismounting and leading their horses inside the darkness of the barn, they closed the wide doors and took care of their horses in the back of the barn, pulling their muskets from their holders in preparation for a seige.

D'Artagnan said, "Let's hope they don't see the tracks and follow us. They could surround us easily in this setting. And the land is so flat, we have no chance to escape out the back before we become trapped inside."

Athos responded, "Let us hope also that the tenants of this farm are away from home at the moment, and are not caught in a crossfire. I did not see any smoke coming from the chimney, and there was no sign of anyone in the fields as we rode up, so we can only pray that no innocents are involved."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Their pursuers came to a halt when the tracks they were following came to an abrupt halt. Albert stared at the ground, saying, "Our Musketeer cleaning man has been busy again. Fan out and see if you can pick up their tracks on either side of the road."

Albert did not have a calm temper, and he was steaming right now. Where were they? He still believed Aramis was one of the men they were tracking, although he had no rational reason to think so other than singlemindedness at the moment.

A short while later, his brother, Jean, gave a shout, "I found the tracks!"

They all headed for him, and then took off following the tracks, which ended a distance away when they came across a farm.

Albert practically crowed with glee. "Look, boys, this farm is surrounded by fields of crops. No place to hide. So, if they are not in the house with whoever works the farm, they are in that barn, the only other building in sight. I have a feeling the barn is our target. We can trap them in there, and finally get this business taken care of. Let's go!"

Athos and d'Artagnan heard the thunder of the horses before they ever saw them.

Athos said, "I think they've found us. But they do not know what kind of weapons or ammunition we have, which may hold them off for a while. There is not much in the way of shelter from gunshots when they get nearer, so they are going to have to be careful coming closer. The flat land without much cover can be just as much an advantage to us as it to them, but I do not think they realize it yet. We will give them a Musketeer welcome!"

When their pursuers drew near the barn, Athos opened fire, hitting one of the men and toppling him from his horse. Albert hurriedly motioned for his men to get down on the ground to avoid being hit. D'Artagnan, however, hit another one of them before he made it to the ground.

Athos spoke in a low, soft tone to d'Artagnan, saying, "We have enough ammunition to make it interesting for a while, but we need to think about making an attempt to evade them soon. We have them pretty well pinned down at the moment, as if they attempt to get up and circle the barn, they are moving targets. But if they create a diversion and circle the barn, we are going to be in trouble."

Albert was frustrated. He was so close, but hadn't counted on being pinned down because of lack of cover. All he had thought of was that the Musketeers had no place to hide, not himself and his men. He decided to send the hired men around the barn first to draw their fire, if it protected he and his brothers until the barn was sealed from escape. He didn't really care if any of the hired men died, as long as he and his brothers got their revenge. Motioning to the hired men, he indicated they should begin moving towards the barn. As soon as they inched forward, lifting their bodies to get maneuverability, Athos and d'Artagnan cut them down. Albert's plan was not working, which made him even more angry.

Athos and d'Artagnan had been very successful thus far, but knew it was only a matter of time before the greater number of men would succeed. They decided they needed to try leaving now, as Albert and company would not be expecting it, thinking they had superior numbers and would wait them out.

They gave each other a quick hug before mounting up, knowing they might not make it, then flew out of the barn and off to the left towards the road.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A short distance away, Jean-Pierre and Tristan, were leading their group of Musketeers along the route Porthos had given them, when they came upon the tracks of a large group of horses. The tracks veered off the dirt road to Paris into the countryside. Since Porthos had told them there was a menacing group after their fellow Musketeers, Jean-Pierre surmised that this could be that group, as the road had been pretty unpopulated the whole way from Paris. Signaling to his men, they took off following the tracks.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert's brother, Jean, aimed his musket directly at Athos, but just as he was about to fire, a bullet hit him in the chest, killing him instantly.

Albert, stunned, stared at the riders heading for them, firing as they came. Two more of his hired men were hit and down, when he decided to slip away with his two remaining brothers. As they mounted and started to ride away, one of his brothers was hit and fell from his horse. Albert and Michel spurred their horses in the opposite direction from the rescuers and sped away.

Athos and d'Artagan had never been so happy to see Jean-Pierre, Tristan and the others. "Porthos must have given you incredible directions," said Athos, grinning as he rode up to the leader of their small rescue party.

"Yes, but we didn't get all of them," said Jean-Pierre, disappointed at failing to get all of the murderous band.

Athos was worn out and hungry, but said, "Let us go see who got away, then we ride for Paris."

Checking on the dead littering the ground, Athos had a bad feeling. He saw one of the brothers laying slain on the ground, but Albert wasn't among the dead, and neither was one remaining brother.

Turning their horses, they headed for Paris and home.


	22. Chapter 23

Short chapter, but I am posting two chapters today. The story will be climaxing fairly soon now. I hope you are enjoying

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Treville and Porthos stayed with Aramis throughout the night. Neither of them could or would take any rest, wanting to be there for Aramis, whose body was racked with a fever. They put cold cloths on his forehead and chest to try to bring the fever down, but it raged on.

Treville over the years had seen how the comrades took care of each other, always needing to keep a physical contact with whichever one was injured or ill. He was happy to be able to do the same this time around, but wished the circumstances might have been different-that Aramis was on the mend as they sat with him.

Treville was talking with Porthos in the middle of the night. He said in a fierce voice, even for him, "We are going to make it the Musketeers' top priority to get these men. Aramis and all of you have done such good for so many people, and this pack of animals has made his life a living hell. Hopefully, Athos and d'Artagnan can take care of at least some of them before they return."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Treville had gone down to Serge next morning to collect some breakfast. Porthos had never wavered from Aramis' side the whole night, his hand over his brother's, letting him know someone was there for him all the time as his fever took its toll.

Treville had barely been gone a couple of minutes when Aramis wearily opened eyes that had been closed for far too long in Porthos' way of thinking. A broad smile lit up his face as he tousled Aramis' hair and said, "You with us again?"

Aramis looked up into Porthos' face with eyes beyond tired and in pain. "Where am I?"

If Porthos thought it was an odd question, he didn't say so, just replied, "Where you are usually the one looking down at us, trying to heal us, and forcing horrible-tasting concoctions on us. Looks like the shoe is on the other foot this time, my friend."

He laid his hand across Aramis' forehead, and was so relieved to feel the fever had greatly lessened. He asked him, "How do you feel?"

Aramis closed his eyes a moment, then opened them, saying, "It hurts, Porthos."

Porthos was surprised and worried, as Aramis always played down his injuries and illnesses. For him to admit the pain, it must be pretty bad.

Porthos told him Dr. Lemay had come to treat him, and had left a pain draught for him if he needed it. Again, Porthos was surprised when Aramis said, "Please?"

Treville came back in at that moment with two steaming bowls, and broke into a huge smile when he saw Aramis awake. Porthos beckoned to him, and told him Aramis asked for the pain draught. Treville's smile disappeared at once, as he knew that was very unlike his medic.

Porthos gently lifted Aramis a little ways off the bed so that Treville could give him the pain medication. Even that slight movement caused Aramis to moan. When he had drunk Dr. Lemay's draught, Porthos eased him back down on the bed, and Aramis' eyes slid shut once more.

They thought he had fallen asleep, and were startled when he said, "Is he gone?"

They didn't know who he meant, so they asked him. He murmured sleepily, "Albert."

Treville told him, "Athos and d'Artagnan may have taken care of him by now. We don't know. They should be back very soon. You just get some rest now."

Aramis drowsily said, "Be safe, my brothers," before finally falling asleep again.

The pain draught eased some of the agony he was in, but he still awakened twice during the morning as they had been given nothing to help him to sleep. Each time, Treville or Porthos coaxed him into drinking as much water as he could take, before he fell asleep again.

Around noon, they heard a commotion down in the compound, and discovered that Athos, d'Artagnan and the others had returned. Treville, making a quick visual check, was relieved to see that no one was missing or injured, for which he was very thankful.

Athos and d'Artagnan's feet barely hit the ground before they were running for the infirmary. Treville met them at the door.

"How is he?", they both chorused at the same time.

"Dr. Lemay treated him. He developed a very high fever from the infection of the wound, but this morning awoke for a moment after his temperature had gone significantly down. He has taken water when we have given it to him, but as far as I know, he has had nothing to eat since before he was kidnapped."

They were already going through the door, eager to see their brother again. Reaching the bed, they saw how pale and still he was. The eyes of all three of his brothers met silently across the bed, and Athos reached over and laid his hand gently on Aramis' hand. D'Artagnan and Porthos quickly followed his lead, laying their hands one on top of the other.

They totally were not expecting what they heard next. A bare whisper, "One for all." Smiles of surprise and delight lit up the faces of everyone in the room, as Aramis weakly smiled back at them.

"It is very good to be back, and to see you awake, brother," Athos said.

"You gave all of us such a scare," d'Artagnan added.

Treville asked, "Do you think you are up to eating a little broth, Aramis? You have not had any nourishment since you were taken."

Aramis nodded slowly. "I don't know how much I can keep down. But I will try."


	23. Chapter 24

I've gone from a very short chapter to a long chapter!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis had eaten half a bowl of the broth, before beginning to fall asleep once more. They managed to get another pain draught into him before he was out. But it was sleep this time, and not unconsciousness, which they were all happy to see.

Athos went to Treville's office to give a report on what had happened in their encounter with the Courtains. The Captain was not at all happy that two of them had got away. He posted guards at all the various ways to enter the garrison, and told Athos that one or more of them needed to be with Aramis around the clock, this to be in force even in the event that they heard any out of the ordinary occurrences happening. They were not going to be caught with the diversion that happened last time with the fire.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After d'Artagnan paid a long overdue visit to Constance, she wasted no time going to the Queen to relieve her worries about Aramis.

"They rescued Aramis and he is at the garrison infirmary. He has just survived a very high fever, and woke up yesterday lucid but extremely weak yet. Dr. Lemay will be going to check on him tomorrow morning."

Anne was so relieved, the tears just started to fall as Constance gathered her into her arms. She had thought she would lose the man she loved so much, but her prayers had been answered. She cherished the thought that he would live, even though they could never be with one another.

"Please accompany Dr. Lemay tomorrow, Constance. I would know how he looks, and what Dr. Lemay says." Constance told her she would certainly go, and come straight back to her afterward with a report.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dr. Lemay arrived bright and early next morning, accompanied by Constance. D'Artagnan was very happy to see her again so soon, but Athos wondered to himself if she had come on her own, or if she had been sent.

They had to wake Aramis up for the doctor's visit, as Lemay needed to ask him questions of how he felt.

Porthos gently patted his cheek, saying, "Wake up, sleepyhead. You have a visitor."

Aramis' eyelids moved a little, but he didn't wake up.

Porthos started to tease his friend.

"Come on now, Aramis. You know how you are when you are taking care of us, and we want to sleep. Same thing applies here. You can sleep again as soon as Dr. Lemay leaves, ok?"

Aramis slowly moved his head, then moaned, as even that small movement triggered pain. Laying very still, he opened his eyes and looked up to see the serious face of Dr. Lemay, and beyond him, Constance.

"How are you feeling, Aramis?"

"I cannot move without pain, but, at least, when I am awake now, things are clear, including my thoughts. I was able to eat a little, and drink liquids. I seem to want to sleep all the time." This was Aramis, the medic, analyzing his condition, which didn't surprise Lemay or any of his brothers.

"Any headaches?"

Aramis shook his head slightly.

"Stomach ache?"

Again, Aramis shook his head. "But I have not eaten very much, either."

Lemay was very pleased with Aramis' progress, and told him so. He also told him he needed to continue to get as much rest as possible, and not push his body until it was ready, figuring Aramis, with his medical skills, didn't need that spelled out for him. Lemay told him to eat and drink as much as he could, as that would strengthen him and help him to recover.

After he had changed the bandages, and checked Aramis' other injuries, he stood up to leave. Aramis just simply said, "Thank you for what you have done for me, Dr. Lemay. Believe me, I am very grateful."

Dr. Lemay left the room. Constance leaned down and kissed Aramis on the cheek,saying, "I am very glad to see you getting well, Aramis." Noticing Porthos on the other side of the room getting Aramis' pain medication, she whispered, "Someone sends you her love." His eyes widened and a small smile appeared. She gave his hand a squeeze, and took her leave. He lay there for a moment with this unexpected and very welcome news. Then, gradually, still with the little smile, his eyes closed in sleep, the visit having tired him out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Anne was trying not to be impatient waiting for Constance to return with news of Aramis. When she did appear, Anne flew across the room, very unlike her usual regally dignified walk.

"How does he look, Constance?"

Constance broke out in a big smile, saying, "Dr. Lemay told Aramis he was very pleased by his progress. He is still very weak and pale in appearance. He is eating and taking liquids. He was told not to overdo things, but to rest as much as possible. I told him, when no one was near, that you send your love. Your Majesty...Anne...you should have seen. His eyes got real wide, and he broke out in the most beauiful little smile!"

Anne started crying again. She was so happy he would recover. Her prayers were being answered. But they would continue always for him, and for their son.

She gave Constance a hug, saying, "Thank you, Constance. That is the best news you could have given me. Please let me know if Dr. Lemay goes to see him again, how things are?" Constance assured her she would definitely do so.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis slept most of the next few days. He still had nightmares that caused him much distress. One of his brothers was always with him, and soothed him, saying, "We are here for you, Aramis." After several moments, he would settle into a quiet sleep again.

Whenever he awakened, whichever of his brothers was there, would have someone bring broth to give to him. They also got him to drink quite a bit of water in those times, too. He was alert each time he awoke, but still very weak and tired easily. It didn't stop him from teasing them, though.

One day, Porthos was the one who had spoon-fed him a meal. As they were finishing, Porthos said to him, "This is doing really good things to help you get your strength back, Aramis."

To which Aramis replied, "I try to tell you all that when I am the one feeding you, but you still argue with me," with a twinkle in his eye as he said it.

Porthos loved it, as it showed him his friend was gradually coming back to normal. Teasing was a daily occurrence with the four comrades, and done in a way friends who know each other very well could do.

As Aramis continued to improve, they started to see signs of the man they knew and loved surfacing more. He began to fret at being in bed all the time. He wanted something to do instead of sleeping through the day. He wanted to be dressed, and not in braies and a nightshirt all the time. They gently coaxed him out of these wants, as they could see the result each time he moved a hand, leg or his head more than a few inches-the resultant pain froze his movement. But it didn't stop his wishful thinking.

One day, when Athos was beside his bed, Aramis asked him, "Has there been any sign of Albert or his remaining brother?"

Athos replied slowly, "No, Aramis. We could take that as a sign of their giving up, which, knowing Albert's relentlessness so far, is unlikely. Or it's possible a stray bullet hit one of them, and they are laying low until healthy again. We have the garrison tightly covered guard-wise, in the event of their planning anything else, so do not worry about it overmuch, brother."

Aramis responded, "You know me, Athos. I am not a man who is fearful of life. I love life and try to live it the best way I know how. I know they tried to instill as much pain and fear as they could while I was at their mercy. When I am awake, I understand where the fear was coming from, and my mind can counter it. But I still have dreams of that wall sealing me in, and try as I might, they won't go away. I hate not being able to move and defend myself as I am used to doing."

Athos said, "Believe me, brother, I can understand what you are saying. You will regain your strength and rejoin us. In the meantime, let us do for you until you are back to full health. We are brothers. We love you as much as you love us. You have saved our lives so often over the years, be it injuries or illnesses. We will be your strength until yours is fully back. The way I feel about these animals who nearly killed you, they would not want to face my pistol or rapier, and I know Porthos and d'Artagnan feel likewise. Rest, and we will be here for you."

Aramis smiled, and squeezed the hand that was holding his. Then, his eyes closed once more.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Albert and Jean-Marc had laid low for quite some time. It seemed strange to them not to have their other brothers with them. If Albert had been angry before, he was livid now. He had gone from four brothers to one. But until he had wracked his brain and come up with a new plan, they did well to stay out of sight in a little run-down inn on the other side of Paris from the garrison.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis slowly regained his health, being able now to sit up for short periods during the day. He was able to eat his meals without assistance. He felt much better even being able to do this much.

One day when Porthos was sitting with him, Aramis asked him if there was anything he could do to keep busy while staying in his quarters, since Dr. Lemay wouldn't him going outdoors just yet.

At first, Porthos tried telling Aramis to just enjoy his free time off-duty. But when he saw that this was just making Aramis feel useless, he said, "Well, you know, there are a number of firearms in the weapons room that are just sitting there. They don't work. They are kept well-cleaned and oiled, and some are even still loaded, but they won't fire. How would you like to try your hand at seeing if you can figure out why they won't fire? It would be something that wouldn't tire you out, but it would also be something that could be very useful to the garrison, too."

Aramis jumped at the chance of being productive again, even, for him, in such a small way. Porthos promised to bring him a couple of them the next morning.

Later that day, Porthos was with him when he awoke. He pulled up a chair, and said, "You're getting better and better. I can see it."

Aramis smile, replying, "I am being molly-coddled! It's unusual for me, but I am actually quite enjoying it. It feels so good to be surrounded by people who care."

Porthos knew Aramis, probably better than anyone in the world, and knew this was highly unusual for his brother to say.

"Aramis, I hope you don't mind my asking, but how bad was it?"

Aramis closed his eyes for a moment, then slowly started speaking, so softly Porthos had to lean closer, as he could barely hear him.

"I have never experienced being made to feel like I was beneath contempt, lower than an animal, Porthos. They would...they would..." He couldn't go on for a moment.

"It's all right, Aramis. It's just me."

"They would...come down the ladder...and stand over me. Just...just looking at me. Their faces", he stopped for a moment. "Their faces were so hate-filled. Sometimes, they would kick me...or punch...or spit on..."

It was too much emotionally for him. He was still too worn out and in pain to go through it again, even verbally. Porthos ruffled his hair, saying, "You want to know what Athos, d'Artagnan and I want to do when we meet up with them again? And we will, you know. You are our brother, and nobody treats you like that and walks away free. You'll see. Meantime, you rest up, get well, and make those pistols like new again, like I know you can."

He started to turn away to sit down, but paused and turned back. "You know we love you, don't you", he said, as a statement, not a question. He knew the answer to that one without any confirmation whatever.


	24. Chapter 25

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis was actually enjoying working with the pistols. It gave him a sense of purpose, if only in a small way. He had already figured out what was wrong with the mechanism of the first one, so Porthos took it back to the weapons room, and replaced it with one more. He didn't want to give him a bunch, as he knew Aramis, who would feel the responsibility to get them all primed and working as quickly as possible.

That evening, Athos and d'Artagnan brought dinner to Aramis' quarters for all four of them, as Aramis wasn't ready to come to the dining area yet, and they missed their brother with them at meals. Roast chicken, potatoes and a glass of wine for each of them constituted their meal, and they all very much enjoyed the more intimate setting, just the four of them. It finally was beginning to feel more like old times: the camaraderie, conversation and joking with each other.

Each of them silently kept an eye on Aramis, as none of them wanted to tire him out too much. But he was enjoying himself as much as they were.

They finally collected the remnants of their meal to leave. Porthos had once again wanted to stay with Aramis, so he went to hold open the door so Athos and d'Artagnan could exit with the dirty dishes and mugs.

Turning back to Aramis, he saw him pick up one of the pistols again, intending to work on it some more. He had an idea what was wrong, and wanted to try something while he had the idea fresh in his mind. Porthos just pulled up his chair and enjoyed the silence, as Aramis was too intent on his project to stop and talk.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After Athos and d'Artagnan brought the dishes back to Serge, they split up: d'Artagnan to visit Constance, and Athos to be alone with his thoughts in company with a second mug of wine.

He saw lights on in here and there, indicating that at least some of the regiment were in for the night, and not on assignment or at the tavern. He actually didn't really want to go to a tavern tonight, which was unusual for him. He was just enjoying the quiet of the evening under the stars.

He was just about ready to go get another mug from Serge when he saw a couple of shadowy figures slipping inside the garrison gates. He would have thought no more about it, but for the way they moved, as if they didn't want anyone to see them entering the gates. Alarm bells went up.

"You there. Identify yourselves!" he called out. No response was given, but the two figures suddenly split up, going opposite directions inside the compound. Athos drew his pistol and took off after the larger of the two men, calling out for assistance as he went.

Several men came forth from their quarters, but saw only Athos. "Search the garrison. Two men entered who do not belong here, and have split up. Find them!"

Athos said this as he was still moving after one of the men. Reaching the building closest to the gates, he spied the man, calling, "Halt, or I fire!"

The man froze, turning slowly in the shadows towards Athos.

Athos commanded him, "Show yourself!"

The man stayed where he was. Athos told him to come out again, "Or I fire!"

The intruder very slowly emerged from the shadows, and Athos hissed in recognition. Albert! What had happened to the guard at the gate?

Athos told him to come forward with his hands raised. By this time, men were beginning to gather around the two men, curious as to what was going on.

Athos was beginning to smile, but it wasn't a smile that reached his eyes. With the number of men surrounding him, he knew Albert couldn't go anywhere.

"So you decided to pay the garrison another visit, Courtain. Once here wasn't enough for you?"

Albert just remained silent, trying desperately to find a way out of the situation.

"I've been hoping you would show up again, Courtain. I believe in justice, and you are going to receive it tonight," Athos said in a monotone, as he drew his rapier.

Putting away his pistol, Athos told Albert to draw his sword. Albert was confused. Why would Athos want to duel when he already had the upper hand in the situation?

"Draw your weapon or I will run you through where you stand, you vermin!" Albert could hear the fury in Athos' voice, and knew a fear like he had never experienced before.

Albert remembered their boyhood encounters. He quaked when he thought of how Athos had toyed with him, even at that age remarkably skilled with a blade. He was now recognized as the finest swordsman in the country. Albert knew he didn't stand a chance. But there was nowhere he could run or hide. He would be caught within 10 feet by the half dozen men now watching the scenario avidly.

Albert could see he had no other choice, so he slowly drew his blade. He knew, in that moment, that he was a dead man. He could see it in Athos' eyes. Well, he would go out fighting, at least. And another thought came to him-maybe while he and Athos were fighting, Jean-Marc would have a chance to finish what they came for with all the attention on the duel. At least, he would die satisfied. With that, he moved in to attack.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aramis and Porthos were enjoying the evening. Aramis had figured out what was wrong with the second pistol he had been working on, too. He was very pleased about that. It gave him a sense of accomplishment.

Porthos just smiled, and was happy that Aramis was happy. It had been quite a while since he had seen his brother with such a pleased expression.

The door was open to let in the evening breeze, so they both heard the flurry of activity and shouts out in the compound. Aramis wanted to come see what was happening, but Porthos said to stay put and he would find out, and went out on the porch.

So he was not in the room when Jean-Marc climbed in the window, a pistol leveled at Aramis' head.


	25. Chapter 26

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The men in the garrison had sparred with Athos during training sessions, and knew the superiority of his skills. But until tonight, they had never seen the truly unleashed brilliance they were witnessing.

He was clearly toying with Albert. He would drive him back, then flick his sword to make a cut on his arm. They he would back up, letting Albert think he was retreating. As soon as Courtain moved forward, Athos made a lightning fast move, and again made a cut lightly across Albert's chest, drawing blood this time. It was cat and mouse, and Albert was clearly the unwilling mouse.

After several moments, Albert had cuts in numerous places on his body, but Athos had not moved in for the kill. Albert's mind was in a whirl trying to think of anything he could do to to delay the inevitable, and maybe have a chance to get away. He didn't want to die. But Athos was ahead of him every step of the way. When Albert attempted to feint to his right, Athos was already there, parrying his move and again nicking him in the arm. He drove him back against a wall, keeping him there with the blade against his throat.

Then, he released him, and went back to his game, taking his time with him. The men watching were almost mesmerized watching Athos fight, and learning moves they would practice during the next sparring time.

But, at some point, it occurred to Athos, in the middle of the duel, to wonder what had happened to Jean-Marc. Without moving his eyes from Albert, he thundered,

"Porthos, guard Aramis. Courtain's brother is still on the loose." With that, he stepped up his attack, parrying every move Albert tried without seeming to even break a sweat.

Porthos, in the meanwhile, had heard Athos' command, and turned back into the room. He froze, as he saw a man aiming a pistol at Aramis' head. Aramis had broken out in a sweat, memories flooding his mind when he saw one of his tormentors coming across the room.

Porthos couldn't do anything, as he would risk the man's pistol going off before he could get two steps. He could see the fear in Aramis' eyes, fear that under other circumstances he would never see,and knew without a doubt, that this was one of his kidnappers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Courtain, exhausted by the fight, watched Athos warily. The man was prowling around Albert like a great cat about to pounce. Albert kept his sword up in a defensive stance, looking for any way to forestall another attack.

Athos suddenly moved rapidly, driving Albert back and against the wall. Athos ended the attack abruptly, by driving his blade straight into Courtain's chest so hard it came out his back and pinned him to the wood of the building behind him. Moving close to Albert's face, Athos growled in a low menacing voice, "That was for all the pain and suffering my brother has had to endure from you. Your whole family are nothing but animals, treating the world as if it's yours to do with what you like. Your brother was in the process of savagely raping a woman when Aramis tried to stop it. He warned him, then fired when he wouldn't stop. And you nearly caused his death not once, but twice. You sealed him in, and left him to suffocate to death. You die today, but it isn't nearly enough punishment for the evil you ..."

The sound of a pistol going off sounded in the compound and Athos froze. "Aramis!" He spun on his heel, leaving Albert pinned to the wall, and raced across the courtyard towards Aramis' room, his heart clenching inside of him in fear for his beleaguered brother.

When he reached the room, he came to a complete standstill at the scene before him. There was a man lying across Aramis, who was prone on the bed. Both men and the bed were covered in blood.

Porthos saw Athos in the doorway, and said,"Don't worry. It isn't his."

Porthos had crossed the room, and now pulled the man off Aramis. Next, he gently lifted Aramis from the blood-soaked bed, and brought him over to a chair near the wall, setting him down on it. Aramis promptly rolled up his eyes, and began to slide off the chair. Porthos caught him before he made it to the floor, confused by Aramis' passing out.

Porthos lifted Aramis up and sat down in the chair with him cradled in his arms. "Come on, Aramis, wake up." But Aramis' eyes remained shut.

Athos said,"What happened here, Porthos?"

Porthos replied, "I had foolishly gone out in front of the door when the commotion began in the compound. Someone climbed in the window, and when I turned around, had a gun pointed at Aramis' head. Aramis had frozen, and the look on his face told me exactly who this was, even if I hadn't heard your warning. I couldn't do anything, as the gun would have gone off, killing Aramis. But Aramis, weak and injured as he was, shot him right through the blanket with one of the guns he had just got working! The man landed on top of him, pinning him to the bed, and then you came in."

"We need to see why he passed out. Keep holding him while I check."

After removing Aramis' nightshirt and examining him, Athos discovered a very large bruise forming right over Aramis' mending broken shoulder. From the position of the dead man's body, the elbow may well have hit Aramis' shoulder, the resulting pain causing Aramis to pass out. They were glad it wasn't anything new, but bruising a broken shoulder was not good either.

Treville came in the door next. "What the blazes has been going on while I was at the palace?"

Athos filled him in on what had happened in the room. Treville had a very wide satisfied smile on his face when he finished. But he asked, "How is Aramis, and why is he unconscious?"

His shoulder is still mending, and having a full-grown man land on it is rather painful. He will come around in a few moments."

Treville commented, "For Aramis to take out one of the men who abused him so terribly is poetic justice. Where is Courtain, by the way?"

"He is dead, Captain."

"How?"

One of the men, a cadet who had been watching the duel, came in the door. "Captain, it was the most brilliant feat with a rapier I have ever seen", filling the captain in on what Athos had done.

Treville turned to Athos, saying, "Modesty speaking again?"

Aramis took that moment to regain his senses, confusion evident in his face. "What..."

Porthos told him, "You just rest a few moments. It's not every day you have a 6-foot man land on you when you're laying in bed."

This brought Aramis' memory flooding back. "He's dead?"

Athos decided to tease him. "You are the best shot in the regiment. Do you seriously think he could still be alive, brother?"

Then, he added, "There are no longer any Courtains left alive, Aramis. The nightmare is finally over."

Aramis asked, "But Albert?"

"While you were taking care of his brother, Albert and I had a rather violent disagreement in the courtyard. He and a wall had a meeting...of sorts."

Aramis' face showed he wasn't getting Athos' humor quite yet.

Treville told him,"Athos and Albert had a disagreement, all right. Athos took Albert apart with a rapier, then nailed him to a wall with it-after it had gone clear through his body and into the wall behind him."

Athos just said, "I told him I didn't take kindly to his treatment of you. And then I proceeded to render justice that was long overdue. You were with me every moment, Aramis. My thoughts were with you, brother."

Then, Athos had another thought. "Aramis, would you like to see Albert before he is taken down?", thinking it might be a very simple way to maybe rid Aramis of his nightmares, once and for all.

Aramis thought about it, and slowly nodded. Athos and Porthos assisted him in standing, and with a hand on each arm in support, they headed through the door. Crossing the courtyard, Aramis' legs failed him, as he had not been on his feet for quite a while. Porthos caught him as his knees buckled, lifting him in his arms as if he weighed no more than a baby.

They halted in front of the wall where the fight had ended. Aramis stared at his nemesis, the man who had caused him such agony while alive, now pinned to the wall in death. Even though the man had viciously sought his death, Aramis silently made the sign of the cross as he always did for someone who had died. He knew it was up to God where Albert ended up now. Aramis just finally felt a sense of peace that had deserted him for much too long.

They were just turning to go back to Aramis' room, when d'Artagnan came through the gates.

"What the... What happened tonight while I was gone?"

Athos related the night's events, and d'Artagnan just shook his head. "I leave for a short visit to Constance, and missed everything! Are you all right, Aramis?"

Aramis quietly nodded, "Yes, d'Artagnan, I believe I am better than I have been in quite some time. If you don't mind, can we go back now? I think I've exhausted myself tonight."

They looked at each other smiling, as they knew that since he was on the mend, Aramis would soon not be as forthcoming with a true assessment of his health. He almost always would deny any injuries or illnesses, so that he might be strength for his brothers.

They crossed the courtyard back to his room, and Aramis later spent the first nightmare-free stretch of sleep in a very long time.


	26. Chapter 27

I have really enjoyed writing my first fanfic. Thanks to all of you who have followed, favorited, and reviewed it. I have already started a new one, but don't know when I will start posting quite yet. 3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Epilogue

A month had passed since Albert and his brother's deaths. The four brothers were headed out the garrison gates, Aramis with them for the first time since his injuries had healed. Porthos drove a wagon after the horses, the cart loaded with a number of crates, boxes and bags of various shapes and sizes.

"Do we know what the boy's name is, or where he lives?" Aramis asked.

Athos replied, "His name is Alain, and he lives with his mother, father and sister on a small farm on the estate that used to be owned by the Courtains. The King has, thankfully, given the estate to a much-deserving impoverished nobleman who had lost his lands when his father gambled them away. This nobleman had fought valiantly in his country's service, while his father lived such a dissolute life, so it is very fitting."

"You sound as if you know him?" Aramis asked.

"I do. I knew him in my former life as a Comte. He is a very good man, and it does my heart good to know that the lives of the farmers and their families who toiled under the Courtains' brutal hand will now have someone who actually cares about them. He has already visited some of the tenants of his lands. He is the one who filled me in on Alain and his family and where they live. His name is Etienne de Breux, the new Comte de Valmency."

They had decided that now was the best time to go and locate the little boy so responsible for saving Aramis. Aramis was now back almost to full strength, and the Captain wholeheartedly agreed with the importance of their personal mission, even contributing to the "surprises" they were bringing.

The Queen, once Constance had spilled the beans about what they wanted to do, threw herself very generously into the preparations. She wanted so much to show her heartfelt gratitude (although anonymously to the Court) to this unknown boy for saving Aramis. This is when they realized they would need a large wagon instead of a cart to bring things with them!

It took them most of the day to get there, as the wagon made it slow going. They weren't in a hurry, though.

Aramis was remembering what they had told him about encountering the little boy, and how instrumental he was in finding him. Without that little boy's assistance, he realized he might not be alive right now, and once again riding with his beloved brothers. He couldn't wait to meet Alain.

By late afternoon, they reached the cottage that Alain's family called home. Alain saw them coming, yelling, "Mama, Papa, Musketeers are coming!"

He came running, out of breath when he reached them. They dismounted, and Porthos said, "We told you we would be coming back, remember? Bringing surprises. First one is right here. This is our friend, the one you helped us to save. He wanted very much to meet you. Aramis, this is Alain."

Aramis squatted down to come to Alain's height. "You saved my life, young man. I am very, very grateful to you." He opend his arms wide, and Alain ran straight into them. Aramis hugged him very tightly, as his brothers just stood nearby, grinning from ear to ear.

By now, Alain's mother, father and little sister had come out to see what Alain had been shouting about. They saw four heavily armed men leading horses, with Alain just being released from a bear hug from one of them. They were now very apprehensive, concerned about Alain's safety.

Athos saw the hesitation and worried faces. "We are King's Musketeers. We come in peace. Please come join us."

They slowly came forward, unconsciously mimicking how Alain had first approached them in their cautious movements.

Athos greeted them, and told them, "I am not sure what Alain may have told you, but he recently saved the life of our brother here. We never would have found where the Courtains had hidden and nearly killed him. We told him then that we would come back with surprises for him, and so we have come today."

"You are the men Alain went on and on about then," his father told them. "He was so excited. His account wasn't too detailed, though," he said with a laugh. "Welcome, welcome!"

Porthos said, "We have definitely got surprises for everyone, especially Alain. Come around here," leading them towards the back of the wagon.

Beginning to open boxes and bags, the Musketeers pulled forth numerous gifts. There was clothing for each of them, several sizes too big (as Constance had figured if they were too big, they could be taken in, but if too small, they could never be worn). There were ankle-length woolen cloaks for each of them and several large woolen blankets for their beds, for the cold winters; bags of flour, sugar, corn; bags of various kinds of seeds to be planted. They were nearing the back of the wagon now, which was closed off and covered with a light cloth. Alain was getting very curious as to what was there, as he could hear noises. The cloth was pulled away, revealing two large slatted crates. D'Artagnan drew one of the crates near, filled with chickens. The other crate was pulled forward, Aramis pulling something from it slowly. Turning around, he plopped a tiny black and white spotted puppy into Alain's very willing arms. The puppy started licking his face, and Alain giggled and broke out in a huge grin, looking up at Aramis.

"Is he for me, really?", he asked, afraid it was too good to be true.

"He is all yours, Alain," they all answered together.

Porthos told them, "In a couple of days, a few of our cadets will bring a cow, a pig and a goat for you. They wouldn't fit in the wagon," laughing at the thought of the animals squeezed in with the boxes and bags.

Aramis went to the front of the cart, and came back with one more bag. "This one is for you, too," he said, putting it down in front of the excited little boy.

Without letting go of his new little furry friend, Alain peaked into the bag one-handed, excited all over again. He called his little sister over, and said, "Look what else they brought us!"

Their eyes grew even bigger, as several kinds of toys were pulled forth: a doll, a top, a miniature toy musket, and several others.

Alain's mother and father had been silent through all of this, shocked at the bounty brought forth for their family. His father finally said, "This is too much, monsieurs. We are overwhelmed."

Athos spoke up, "Sir, it will never be enough to thank your son. We love Aramis very much, and were very close to losing him. The Courtains were suffocating him in a cellar very near here. If Alain had not come forward, he very likely would have died a very painful death. Nothing we can do is enough in return for his life."

He paused, and then spoke again, "Some of what is here is also a very special gift from our Queen. We are the King's Musketeers, which means we guard the royal family. Queen Anne heard of what we were doing, and insisted on giving also."

Alain's parents were now awestruck. Common peasants were never recognized for anything, thought to be inferior to nobility. To receive gifts of the queen of the country was so unbelievable, they didn't know what to do or say.

Aramis knelt down by Alain again, and said, "I will never be able to say thank you enough for what you did for me. God bless you, Alain," tracing the sign of the Cross on the little boy's forehead, and then hugging him fiercely once again.

All four Musketeers were feeling very emotional and teary-eyed. Alain's mother finally spoke up and asked them, "Would you please stay and share the evening meal with us? If you don't mind cramped quarters, you could also spend the night? It's too late to go back to Paris tonight."

They were afraid they would cost the family too much feeding them a meal, but the parents were so downcast when they appeared about to say no, that they hastened to reassure them they would stay. They got out their bedrolls, unsaddled their horses, and followed the family indoors with Alain leading the way, never letting go of Aramis' hand til they were in the house.

In the morning, after a simple breakfast of porridge and bread, they bid the family farewell, and headed back to Paris. It had been a very good ending to what had, at one time, seemed to be a hearts were warm indeed at the joy they were able to bring to Alain's family-as Alain was able to bring you to theirs, with Aramis by their side again-all for one.

Finis


	27. Chapter 28

I have really enjoyed writing my first fanfic. Thanks to all of you who have followed, favorited, and reviewed it. I have already started a new one, but don't know when I will start posting quite yet. 3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Epilogue

A month had passed since Albert and his brother's deaths. The four brothers were headed out the garrison gates, Aramis with them for the first time since his injuries had healed. Porthos drove a wagon after the horses, the cart loaded with a number of crates, boxes and bags of various shapes and sizes.

"Do we know what the boy's name is, or where he lives?" Aramis asked.

Athos replied, "His name is Alain, and he lives with his mother, father and sister on a small farm on the estate that used to be owned by the Courtains. The King has, thankfully, given the estate to a much-deserving impoverished nobleman who had lost his lands when his father gambled them away. This nobleman had fought valiantly in his country's service, while his father lived such a dissolute life, so it is very fitting."

"You sound as if you know him?" Aramis asked.

"I do. I knew him in my former life as a Comte. He is a very good man, and it does my heart good to know that the lives of the farmers and their families who toiled under the Courtains' brutal hand will now have someone who actually cares about them. He has already visited some of the tenants of his lands. He is the one who filled me in on Alain and his family and where they live. His name is Etienne de Breux, the new Comte de Valmency."

They had decided that now was the best time to go and locate the little boy so responsible for saving Aramis. Aramis was now back almost to full strength, and the Captain wholeheartedly agreed with the importance of their personal mission, even contributing to the "surprises" they were bringing.

The Queen, once Constance had spilled the beans about what they wanted to do, threw herself very generously into the preparations. She wanted so much to show her heartfelt gratitude (although anonymously to the Court) to this unknown boy for saving Aramis. This is when they realized they would need a large wagon instead of a cart to bring things with them!

It took them most of the day to get there, as the wagon made it slow going. They weren't in a hurry, though.

Aramis was remembering what they had told him about encountering the little boy, and how instrumental he was in finding him. Without that little boy's assistance, he realized he might not be alive right now, and once again riding with his beloved brothers. He couldn't wait to meet Alain.

By late afternoon, they reached the cottage that Alain's family called home. Alain saw them coming, yelling, "Mama, Papa, Musketeers are coming!"

He came running, out of breath when he reached them. They dismounted, and Porthos said, "We told you we would be coming back, remember? Bringing surprises. First one is right here. This is our friend, the one you helped us to save. He wanted very much to meet you. Aramis, this is Alain."

Aramis squatted down to come to Alain's height. "You saved my life, young man. I am very, very grateful to you." He opend his arms wide, and Alain ran straight into them. Aramis hugged him very tightly, as his brothers just stood nearby, grinning from ear to ear.

By now, Alain's mother, father and little sister had come out to see what Alain had been shouting about. They saw four heavily armed men leading horses, with Alain just being released from a bear hug from one of them. They were now very apprehensive, concerned about Alain's safety.

Athos saw the hesitation and worried faces. "We are King's Musketeers. We come in peace. Please come join us."

They slowly came forward, unconsciously mimicking how Alain had first approached them in their cautious movements.

Athos greeted them, and told them, "I am not sure what Alain may have told you, but he recently saved the life of our brother here. We never would have found where the Courtains had hidden and nearly killed him. We told him then that we would come back with surprises for him, and so we have come today."

"You are the men Alain went on and on about then," his father told them. "He was so excited. His account wasn't too detailed, though," he said with a laugh. "Welcome, welcome!"

Porthos said, "We have definitely got surprises for everyone, especially Alain. Come around here," leading them towards the back of the wagon.

Beginning to open boxes and bags, the Musketeers pulled forth numerous gifts. There was clothing for each of them, several sizes too big (as Constance had figured if they were too big, they could be taken in, but if too small, they could never be worn). There were ankle-length woolen cloaks for each of them and several large woolen blankets for their beds, for the cold winters; bags of flour, sugar, corn; bags of various kinds of seeds to be planted. They were nearing the back of the wagon now, which was closed off and covered with a light cloth. Alain was getting very curious as to what was there, as he could hear noises. The cloth was pulled away, revealing two large slatted crates. D'Artagnan drew one of the crates near, filled with chickens. The other crate was pulled forward, Aramis pulling something from it slowly. Turning around, he plopped a tiny black and white spotted puppy into Alain's very willing arms. The puppy started licking his face, and Alain giggled and broke out in a huge grin, looking up at Aramis.

"Is he for me, really?", he asked, afraid it was too good to be true.

"He is all yours, Alain," they all answered together.

Porthos told them, "In a couple of days, a few of our cadets will bring a cow, a pig and a goat for you. They wouldn't fit in the wagon," laughing at the thought of the animals squeezed in with the boxes and bags.

Aramis went to the front of the cart, and came back with one more bag. "This one is for you, too," he said, putting it down in front of the excited little boy.

Without letting go of his new little furry friend, Alain peaked into the bag one-handed, excited all over again. He called his little sister over, and said, "Look what else they brought us!"

Their eyes grew even bigger, as several kinds of toys were pulled forth: a doll, a top, a miniature toy musket, and several others.

Alain's mother and father had been silent through all of this, shocked at the bounty brought forth for their family. His father finally said, "This is too much, monsieurs. We are overwhelmed."

Athos spoke up, "Sir, it will never be enough to thank your son. We love Aramis very much, and were very close to losing him. The Courtains were suffocating him in a cellar very near here. If Alain had not come forward, he very likely would have died a very painful death. Nothing we can do is enough in return for his life."

He paused, and then spoke again, "Some of what is here is also a very special gift from our Queen. We are the King's Musketeers, which means we guard the royal family. Queen Anne heard of what we were doing, and insisted on giving also."

Alain's parents were now awestruck. Common peasants were never recognized for anything, thought to be inferior to nobility. To receive gifts of the queen of the country was so unbelievable, they didn't know what to do or say.

Aramis knelt down by Alain again, and said, "I will never be able to say thank you enough for what you did for me. God bless you, Alain," tracing the sign of the Cross on the little boy's forehead, and then hugging him fiercely once again.

All four Musketeers were feeling very emotional and teary-eyed. Alain's mother finally spoke up and asked them, "Would you please stay and share the evening meal with us? If you don't mind cramped quarters, you could also spend the night? It's too late to go back to Paris tonight."

They were afraid they would cost the family too much feeding them a meal, but the parents were so downcast when they appeared about to say no, that they hastened to reassure them they would stay. They got out their bedrolls, unsaddled their horses, and followed the family indoors with Alain leading the way, never letting go of Aramis' hand til they were in the house.

In the morning, after a simple breakfast of porridge and bread, they bid the family farewell, and headed back to Paris. It had been a very good ending to what had, at one time, seemed to be a hearts were warm indeed at the joy they were able to bring to Alain's family-as Alain was able to bring you to theirs, with Aramis by their side again-all for one.

Finis


End file.
